


Our Little Secret

by Gallavich1012



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different Meeting, Angst, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, Lots and lots of smut, M/M, Protective!Mickey, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27437356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallavich1012/pseuds/Gallavich1012
Summary: Mickey Milkovich is the Governor of Illinois, Ian Gallagher just got hired as his new personal assistant. Only problem is the Governor is in the closet, has a wife and son and slept with Ian before he knew they would be working together. What happens when he falls for Ian? Will he risk everything to have a real relationship with the man he loves? Or will he have to let Ian go?
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 28
Kudos: 82





	1. Wanna Get Out Of Here?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [NO WE DIDN'T](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7611154) by [Mrs_Monaghan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Monaghan/pseuds/Mrs_Monaghan). 



> Incase it was missed, this story is very heavily inspired by the story “No We Didn’t” by Mrs_Monaghan here on Ao3. I loved her story and I am very thankful she allowed me to write my own version of her work! So, please check out her story as well and give it some love! ♥️

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Can I take you to bed?" Ian asked, untangling their fingers to rub at Mickey thighs. He kept his eyes closed listening to Ian's heavy breathing and smelling his aftershave and just thinking about how he hadn't felt this good in literally years. He really wasn't supposed to stay the night._  
>  _"Yeah."_

“So, how did your interview go?” Debbie asked, looking over the counter at Ian who was feeding Franny a puréed baby food. 

“I think it went pretty well. Apparently they will be calling the people who got the job.” Ian shrugged nonchalantly, though he was really hoping he got the job; he needed the job after quitting his previous EMT job. 

“I’m sure you’ll get it. I beefed up your resume a bit but not so much that you’ll seem like a liar if they asked you something you don’t know,” Debbie laughed, flipping a pancake on the griddle. 

“Thanks for getting that interview Debs. I know I already talked to you about why I quit my last job but I should have had something else lined up.” Ian sighed, offering another bite of the food to Franny. 

“Hey, don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault and no one should ever have to go through anything like that. I’m just glad you had enough savings to hold you over while we looked for a new job.” Debbie’s face had softened a bit and Ian took a moment to just look at her. Sometimes he forgot that Debbie was still only nineteen years old but just like him, and every one of their siblings, was forced to grow up too soon. 

“Thanks, Debs,” Ian smiled, handing Franny her sippy cup of juice after feeding her the last bite of food. 

“Hey, Ian,” Lip called from the living room. Ian kissed Franny’s head, sitting the empty jar on the counter and heading to the living room, taking the offered beer from his brother. 

“What’s up?” he asked, sitting on the coffee table, Lip and Fiona both looking at him for a silent second. 

“We just wanted to see how you were holding up. Debbie told us you had an interview at the senator’s office and wanted to make sure you were ready to start working again,” Lip explained, watching his brother take a swig of the beer. 

“I am okay. I’m holding up. Therapy is going good and I’m still taking my meds. I’m not gonna lie, I'm still struggling a bit but I’ve gotta get out. Be around other people, work and stay busy mentally-“ 

“Mentally busy? Just take some coke or meth, you’ll be fine.” Frank’s voice suddenly boomed through the room as he walked in from the kitchen. 

“Shut up, Frank,” Fiona snapped, sitting up and glaring at their father. Ever since Fiona's wedding none of them had quite had the patience for him, especially Fiona. 

“What? Man says he needs to keep mentally busy to keep his mind off of his past traumas, drugs are the best way to go,” Frank argued, like he truly believed what he’s saying. 

“Yeah, sorry, Frank. But I don’t really wanna end up like you.” Ian rolled his eyes and set his beer down when Frank turned towards him. 

“Like me? You wish to be half the man I am,” Frank chuckled. Ian just looked away, not wanting to give into his shit. 

“Oh that’s right. You couldn’t be anything like me anyway you what with all your mental instabilities—“ Frank didn’t even get a chance to finish before Ian’s fist was slamming against his jaw. He heard Fiona's gasp, Debbie's worried shout from the kitchen and Lip calling his name but he didn’t care, slamming his fist into Frank’s face again. 

“Ian, stop!” Lip yelled, grabbing him around the waist and hauling him backwards. 

“Just stop, look at him, you knocked him out, it’s all good,” Lip cautioned, gesturing to Frank. Ian looked over and sure enough, he was passed out with a stream of blood trailing from his nose. 

“I’m gonna go, I don’t wanna be here when he wakes up,” Ian sniffed, going to step around Lip but was pulled into a hug. 

“He deserved it, don’t feel bad. He deserves everything he gets. It's not on you to feel bad when he talks shit. Call me when you find out about that job.” Lip patted his back. 

Ian could only nod, too angry to respond. He said a quiet goodnight to Fiona, kissing Debbie and Franny on the head before grabbing his jacket, keys, and rushing out to his car. For a second he almost wanted to go back in and fuck Frank up but he remembered what he learned in therapy. Count to ten and take some deep breaths. It helped but instead of fucking Frank up, he decided to just go get fucked and found himself driving to this new club that he’d seen plastered everywhere. 

It was supposed to be the shit. Some new fancy-ass club where politicians and celebrities were supposed to hang out. Most people had to pay a shit ton of money to get in but Ian’s friend worked there as a bartender and gave him a card to show the bouncer to get in free. It lifted his mood a bit when he cut the line and the bouncer opened the door and he could hear all of the angry patrons waiting in line. 

“Aye, Niko!” Ian shouted over the loud music, lifting his hand up to catch the bartender's attention. 

“Ian, I was wondering when I would finally see you around here! What can I get you?” the man shouted back, reaching over the bar to shake Ian’s hand. 

“Just a beer, whatever you got is good with me,” Ian shouted back, sliding into the bar stool and grinning when the beer was placed in front of him. Meanwhile across the bar, Ian unknowingly caught the attention of a man in the VIP section. 

* * *

Mickey leaned back against the dark brown leather couch, arm slung over the back, sipping on a beer as he scanned the club looking for someone to bring home. He was slowly giving up hope when no one was catching his eye. It was quite tiring, the whole back-and-forth thing with these men that were never gonna be anything more than a fuck. Maybe if they knew how to fuck him like a whore instead of a fragile piece of glass, he’d keep them around longer. 

Then his eyes scanned over the bar for the tenth time and a new face had him captivated—even the server setting down a new tray of shot glasses didn’t phase him. The guy was sitting but Mickey could just tell he was tall, his red hair was bright against his pale skin and he had the sexiest biceps that flexed when he slipped off his jacket. Austin noticed Mickey was looking at someone and followed his gaze as the governor threw back another shot. 

“Sir, do you want me to…” Austin trailed off, motioning in the direction of the bar. 

“No, I got this one,” Mickey shook his head, standing up and grabbing his jacket. 

“Are you sure? John says—“

“Fuck John.” Mickey cut him off, walking away before he snapped at his bodyguard. 

“Hey,” Mickey greeted the mystery man confidently, loud enough to hear over the music, sliding into the small space between him and the guy in the stool beside him that was currently occupied. 

Mickey smirked as the guy checked him out not even attempting to be subtle about it, his heart twisting with excitement when the redhead bit his bottom lip. 

“Hi there,” Ian greeted just as loud, leaning a bit closer to Mickey, not sure if his heart was still beating after looking at those baby blue eyes. 

“Mickey,” he offered, only slightly surprised when the man didn’t seem to recognize him at all. 

“Ian.” Mickey’s heart twisted again; the offered name was given so confidently, like he had already made up his mind that he wanted him. 

“You wanna get out of here, Mickey?” Ian asked, and boy, did he like the way  _ Ian  _ said his name. 

“Fuck yeah,” he nodded, tossing a look Austin’s way before he was following Ian out of the club. 

Mickey had been governor three years now, and he had gotten used to the drill; find the guy you want to fuck, send Austin to go get him, get the guy to sign a contract, and then he'd let the guy fuck him. Problem was, three years was also the amount of time it'd been since Mickey had a good lay. Every guy he fucked was too gentle, too scared to let go and just fuck their governor. It really irritated Mickey because he had an itch he hadn't been able to scratch in years. Sometimes he was forced to do the fucking which wasn't bad in itself but he preferred when he was the receiving party. 

But Ian—well, he clearly had no idea who Mickey was and he had never felt this excited about not being recognized. So he didn’t care that they were in the back of the cab and this guy was groping and touching and squeezing and kissing on him hard, like he couldn’t get enough. And Mickey just knew without a doubt that this would be a night he wouldn’t forget—especially when he grabbed hold of Ian's cock. It was fucking huge. 

“Fucking jackpot,” Mickey moaned against his lips, getting another shot of excitement when Ian chuckled. 

“We’re here.” They barely registered the cabbie announcing their arrival until the cab came to a halt, causing them to jerk forward a bit. 

Mickey tossed a few bills onto the front seat, knowing he overpaid but not particularly caring, linking his hand with Ian’s and pulling him towards the apartment building before he could protest halving the cost of the cab. The entire elevator ride was spent with Ian pinning Mickey to the wall and tongue-fucking his mouth but he definitely wasn’t complaining. The elevator dinged for them to get off and they stumbled out together, Ian fishing his keys out of his pocket and Mickey’s mouth attached to his neck. 

“Fuck,” Ian groaned when the door wouldn’t unlock. 

“Need some help with that?” Mickey grinned, sucking on Ian’s neck where he was pinned between Ian’s body and the door. 

“No—fuck that feels good,” Ian moaned, forgetting for a second that he was supposed to be getting them inside. 

“Damnit. This is the wrong fucking door,” Ian groaned, pulling his key from the door and ignoring Mickey’s laughter as he pulled him to the next door. This time, it unlocked a lot easier. 

“Fuck, do you even wanna get to the room?” Ian asked, tossing his keys on the table by the door and backing Mickey up against the walk. Eyes checking out the way his black button-up clung to his body, sleeves half rolled up and a bulge in his jeans. 

“Nah,” he answered, hands quickly unbuttoning Ian’s jeans, slipping one hand in to stroke Ian nice and slow. 

“Shit,” Ian hissed, feeling like an ass when he ripped open Mickey’s shirt, but the other man just moaned. 

Ian pushed the shirt from his shoulders, pulling back a second to peel off his own t-shirt before pressing their bodies together again. Mickey’s head dropped back against the wall when Ian bent, licking one nipple into his mouth while he pinched and rolled the other. 

“Ian,” Mickey moaned, the name rolling off his tongue so easily he almost couldn’t wait to be screaming it. 

Ian slid down further, kissing and licking down Mickey’s body, dipping his tongue into his belly button as he pulled down his jeans, a pretty pink cock bobbing out. Ian nipped at Mickey’s hipbone, smirking when he jerked in place. Ian pulled back, taking Mickey’s cock in his hand, pumping him a few times before licking a broad strip up the underside and collecting the precum at the tip. 

“Holy shit,” Mickey cried, hips jerking forward involuntarily but Ian didn’t mind and opened his mouth to take Mickey in, pulling right back off. 

“You look so fucking good.” Ian looked up at him, his free hand reaching toward the table behind him for the lube he kept there, taking Mickey back into his mouth as he squeezed the lube onto his fingers. 

Mickey spread his legs, his hand reaching to grasp ginger locks when he felt that first finger pushing into him, cool and slick but still causing that burn he loved so much. A slew of quiet curses left his lips as Ian started finger-fucking him, taking his dick in his mouth, then adding a second finger, deep throating his cock and gagging around him. 

“Fuck, get up here and fuck me,” Mickey groaned, tugging Ian’s hair and pulling him into a tongue-filled kiss. Both of them kicked their shoes off and Mickey shoved Ian’s jeans down, his mouth watering when he saw Ian’s cock. He knew it was big but, damn. 

Ian gripped the back of his thighs, lifting him up, wrapping Mickey around him and pinning him against the wall. Reaching around Mickey’s body, he lined himself up with his entrance, soft lips exploring his neck and biting down when he pushed in. 

Mickey was breaking all of his own rules. Well technically, his adviser’s rules, but they were his rules too. He was never supposed to fuck someone without having them sign a contract; he was never supposed to mark someone or let them mark him; and he sure as shit wasn’t supposed to fuck without a condom, but like hell if he cared with that big cock in him. 

“Holy fuck, Mickey, you’re so fucking tight. Fuck, you’re taking my cock so fucking good,” Ian cursed as he thrusted into Mickey nice and slow, pulling out to the tip and slamming back in. Mickey on the other hand was trying not to come from the praise alone. 

Ian wrapped an arm around Mickey’s waist to support his body, one of Mickey’s hands was tangled in Ian’s hair while his other hand was linked with Ian’s and pinned to the wall above their heads. Their lips met to muffle and swallow each other’s moans as Ian started fucking Mickey’s tight heat, fucking so hard that the pictures on the wall fell off. 

“That’s right, fucking scream for me,” Ian growled, pulling back enough to see Mickey’s face as he cried out Ian’s name followed by a mumble of what Ian thought was Russian. 

Another scream and Ian changed his angle so he was slamming into Mickey’s prostate. Ian was attacking his neck but Mickey was a screaming, moaning, whimpering mess, squeezing Ian’s hand and hair so hard his own hands were hurting but he didn’t give a damn when he felt that sweet heat in his stomach building up. 

“Oh, god. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Please, Ian, I’m so fucking close. Please.” Mickey started rolling his hips, meeting Ian thrust for thrust and Ian thought he might just pass out from how fucking sexy that was. 

“Fuck, Mickey, cum for me,” Ian moaned right next to Mickey’s ear. Mickey never thought having someone give him permission would make him cum so hard. 

Ian watched Mickey’s eyes roll back, his mouth falling open as he cried out Ian’s name again, followed by some more Russian, his cock twitching as he came between their bodies. Ian came inside of him, biting down on his shoulder. He stood there, lazily thrusting into Mickey as they came down from climax, kissing and caressing one another. 

“Can I take you to bed?” Ian asked, untangling their fingers to rub at Mickey thighs. He kept his eyes closed listening to Ian’s heavy breathing and smelling his aftershave and just thinking about how he hadn’t felt this good in literally years. He really wasn’t supposed to stay the night. 

“Yeah,” He answered simply with a mental fuck it and Ian was carrying him through the dim apartment. 

He was already breaking his rules, what was one more? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to my beta reader for editing all of these chapters for me♥️


	2. Can I Get Your Number?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Can I at least get your number?" Ian asked and Mickey surveyed him for a second._  
>  _"I'll look for you," Mickey pecked his lips._

Ian woke up cuddled into a soft warm back. The room was still dark so he knew it was definitely too early to even be awake right now, but he needed to piss so he rolled out of bed anyway. 

Walking through the house, he went to the guest bathroom, stopping in the kitchen to down a glass of water before heading to the hallway’s entrance. He nearly moaned when images of just a few hours flashed in his mind. He cursed quietly before starting to pick up their clothes, separating and folding them. He fished out Mickey’s phone and set it on the counter before finding his own. His dick twitched again when he picked the black button up and it smelled just like the man it belonged to. He cringed internally when he noticed that there were buttons missing from the shirt when he ripped it open last night. 

Ian walked back to the bedroom, setting Mickey’s phone on the side table next to him and couldn’t help but look the man over. He was laying on his stomach, only a bit of the sheet covering his ass, but his beautiful skin was bathed in the soft orange glow from the street light outside. His dick was half hard—he had no idea if he would see this man again, so why not just wake him up? 

He walked to the end of the bed, kneeling down and dropping onto his hands, pressing a kiss to the sole of each foot, each ankle and up his calves. Mickey sighed and shifted a bit but didn’t make any moves to stop him. Ian slid his hands up soft thighs, pushing the sheet away and kneading his soft, thick ass. This time Mickey made a more coherent noise and Ian knew he was awake, smirking to himself when he spread those cheeks and licked a long strip from his balls to his asshole, making Mickey cry out. Ian slipped his thumb into the stretched hole, moaning when he could still feel his cum in there from earlier. 

“Ian,” Mickey breathed, pushing his ass back and Ian nearly shot up, sliding his cock between Mickey’s ass cheeks. 

“Let me fuck you again, please,” Ian pleaded, ready to beg because he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an ass that good—though he wasn’t quite sure he actually ever had. 

“God, yeah—fuck me, please,” Mickey begged right back, grinding his ass against Ian’s hard, leaking cock. Ian moaned, letting Mickey grind on him for a minute before grabbing his cock and pushing in. 

“Oh, fuck,” Mickey cried into the pillow, arching his back and giving Ian the best view of his ass. 

Ian fucked him hard and slow, leaning over Mickey’s back to trail kisses up his spine, along his neck and across his jaw. Stopping next to Mickey’s ear, he let his heavy breaths wash over the man. By the way he was shaking and covered in goosebumps, he obviously liked it. 

“Come ride me,” Ian whispered, and before he could really even think, Mickey had them flipped over, crawling over his body and straddling his lap. 

Both cried out when Mickey sank back on Ian’s cock, fully seating himself before nearly pulling off and slamming back down. Grinding his ass in slow, tight circles that had both him and Ian cursing and moaning. Mickey grabbed Ian’s wrists, pinning them above his head, and rode him hard and fast. 

“Oh, fuck. That’s so good, Mickey. You’re so fucking tight.” Ian’s eyes rolled back, his mouth falling open and he was completely at Mickey’s mercy, letting him take whatever he wanted. 

“I want you to fucking cum in me again.” The growl that left Ian was almost inhuman at Mickey’s request, and had him jerking up making Mickey cry out. 

Ian kept thrusting into Mickey, hard and fast, causing him to fall forward onto Ian and lose his grip on his wrists. Without being pinned down, Ian’s hands found their way to Mickey’s hips, holding him in place to get better leverage to fuck into him. He felt Mickey’s cum shoot onto his belly and it only took a few more thrusts before he was holding Mickey tight in his lap and cumming inside of him. 

“Holy fuck,” Ian breathed, hands petting up and down Mickey’s back. 

“Holy fuck is right. I don’t remember the last time someone fucked me like that,” Mickey confessed, pressing a kiss just below Ian’s ear, seriously considering seeing this man again. 

“Ditto,” Ian chuckled, returning the small kiss behind Mickey’s own ear. 

They fell asleep like that, Ian still inside Mickey and him lying on Ian’s chest. It was odd. He had never stayed with a guy like this, but it felt so good to be held by someone. It was a feeling he really didn’t want to lose, not from some he felt like he had a connection with. 

They woke up in that exact same position to the sound of a blaring alarm. Mickey’s eyes shot open and pulled himself off of Ian’s lap with a quiet curse. 

“Hey, I gotta go,” Mickey announced, though normally he would’ve just left with no warning. 

“No, please stay,” Ian pouted, crawling out of bed as Mickey started dressing himself. He looked over at Ian, meeting his eyes before glancing at his semi-hard cock, licking his lips but shaking his head. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” Even though he wanted to. He really fucking wanted to. 

Pausing in the process of buttoning his jeans, he let Ian kiss him deep and slow, one hand caressing his face and the other slipping down the back of his pants to slowly finger his hole. 

“Why not? I promise I’ll make it worth it,” Ian whispered against Mickey’s slack mouth, pushing his half-hard cock against his thigh. Mickey was losing this battle but he had to go, so he hesitantly pulled back, but only enough for Ian to get the message to stop. 

“Can I at least get your number?” Ian asked and Mickey surveyed him for a second. 

“I’ll look for you,” Mickey pecked his lips but that answer only confused the hell out of him. 

“How?” Ian asked, following him to the door but Mickey just grinned, pulling him close, sliding their tongues together again before slipping out the doorand leaving Ian alone in the hallway.

“Fuck…”

  
  
  



	3. Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Why didn't you tell me?" Ian asked, though he wasn't mad he was just taken aback, and fucking confused._  
>  _"Would it have made a difference? What would you have done?" Mickey asked, cocking a brow at the redhead._  
>  _"Oh, I don't know, probably not hooked up with the governor of Illinois," Ian offered with a slight scoff._  
>  _"Exactly," Mickey laughed._

Ian’s weekend was more or less shitty. All he could think about was Mickey. The only thing that helped was the call he got letting him know he would be starting at the governor's office Monday. He would have his own office, though it wasn’t really an office; he would be answering calls, greeting office visitors, assisting with and setting up appointments, scheduling tours and other administrative duties. The official job title was staff assistant, but when he was told at the interview he would technically be at the governor’s beck and call, he thought the title should be more along the lines of personal assistant, but he wasn’t complaining. He just hoped the guy wasn’t a total ass wipe. 

So, here he was in his car, driving to orientation and still all he could think about was Mickey. He said he would look for Ian but it was day three and he hadn’t heard from the other man. He didn’t know why he was shocked—how was a guy that didn’t know more about him than simply his name gonna look for him? Technically he knew where Ian lived, but he wasn’t sure the man would just show back up. It sucked waking up because all he wanted to do was wake up wrapped around Mickey, but he didn’t even know if the man would want that. All Ian knew is he wanted Mickey in his life and he didn’t really care how. 

Walking inside the building, it was starting to sink in that he would really be working here. The state capitol was huge and Ian realized that he had never actually been here before. There were supposed to be field trips and shit when he was in school but he was never able to go, so walking into this building was a really odd, surreal feeling. 

He went up to the reception desk to ask for directions from a blonde that was way too perky for how early it was. He fought the urge to roll his eyes at her, thanking her for her help and walking away before she could try to engage him in conversation. On his way to the elevator, he briefly wondered if this job would make him start liking politics. He didn’t even actually know who the governor was or what he looked like despite Debbie telling him he should Google it so he would know, but he never did. 

There were five other people in the conference room already, two of whom he recognized from his interview on Friday. A young guy escorted Ian to the room, telling him to take a seat wherever and their new manager would be in shortly to speak with them. The other new employees were chatting amongst themselves but Ian decided to pull out his phone, sending a text to Debbie letting her know he got there on time, was waiting for orientation and thanking her again for helping him get this job. 

About twenty minutes passed and Ian wondered if they were trying to make them sweat as newcomers, which seemed to work for two of the guys who appeared agitated at the wait. An older blonde woman walked in, her hair pulled back with a clip, her white blouse tucked into a black skirt, a cup of coffee in one hand, a small black bag in the other and a clipboard under her arm. 

“Good morning, associates! I’m so happy everyone could make it today, it’ll be nice to have some new faces around the office,” the woman greeted them, bending to set her coffee on the table next to the small black bag. Ian rolled his eyes when the other guys not so subtly checked out her cleavage, though she didn’t seem to be doing it on purpose. He just knew Lip would be all over her if he was here. 

“You can call me Margo. I’ll be your manager and all of your assignments will come from me except for you, Mr. Gallagher. As staff assistant, you’ll be the only one working directly with the governor on a regular basis,” Margo explained and Ian nodded with a small ‘ _ yes ma’am’. _

“These keys are important. Do not lose them or you will not be let into the office, you’ll lose out on a day of work and you’ll have to pay for a new one.” She picked up the small bag, walked around and handed them each a flat microchipped key attached to a lanyard. 

Going through the orientation, she told each person what their main jobs would be and that they would be escorted to their assigned areas once they were done and given a tour of the facility. She announced that the governor would be coming down to greet the new employees and that Ian would be handled by him and not with the rest of the group. His new co-workers looked jealous at that; it made Ian feel special and he liked that. 

Everyone went quiet as the door opened so Ian looked up to see the governor; he was sure his heart stopped in his chest and he could’ve almost sworn he forgot how to breathe when his emerald eyes met baby blue ones. 

“Good morning, everyone,” the governor greeted enthusiastically, his eyes settling on Ian a bit longer than the others and swallowing thickly. 

“Good morning, Governor,” the other men greeted back, but Ian bit his lip, not trusting himself to say anything. 

“Welcome, and for those of you who don’t know, I’m Governor Milkovich,” Mickey introduced himself, the others laughed and Ian looked up with a chuckle, knowing damn well Mickey knew Ian hadn’t known that’s who he was. 

“If at any point you feel you are in over your head, you can always come to Margo. She’s amazing and will help you with anything you need. Now, I would like some time to get to know my new staff assistant. Margo, please take the rest of these men to get settled in,” Mickey ordered and Ian couldn’t stop staring at his smile. 

Each of the men shook Mickey’s hand on the way out, followed by Margo. Ian met Mickey’s eyes and looked over his body; realizing there were still people in here, he turned to them. 

“Fuck off for a bit, would you,” Mickey called out, neither of the men even flinching at the language just simply backing out to leave them alone. 

“Where are your tattoos?” Ian asked, not knowing what else to say and feeling like an idiot. Mickey’s laugh echoed around him as he walked over to sit on the table directly in front of Ian. 

“You find out I’m your governor and that’s the first question you ask?” Mickey asked, chuckling and fighting the urge to reach out and caress Ian’s face. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ian asked, though he wasn’t angry, just taken aback—and fucking confused. 

“Would it have made a difference? What would you have done?” Mickey asked, cocking a brow at the redhead. 

“Oh, I don’t know, probably not hooked up with the governor of Illinois,” Ian offered with a slight scoff. 

“Exactly.” Mickey laughed like it was the most obvious answer. “Who doesn’t know their fucking governor anyway? This isn’t on me.” 

“So, what happens now?” Ian asked, leaning back in the chair, watching Mickey check him out as he spread his legs slightly. 

“Mm. At this very second nothing, unfortunately. However, I want to see you after work. I’ll have one of my guys pick you up and drop you off where I’ll be, sound good?” Mickey asked glibly, as if Ian could actually say no to him. 

“That sounds real good,” Ian nodded, his voice dropping. He glanced at Mickey’s lips, sitting up straight so he was closer to him, shivering when the man leaned in much closer than professionally necessary to brush their lips together. 

“Hmm,” Mickey hummed, brushing their lips again, dipping his tongue in Ian’s mouth but not sealing their lips in a kiss. Ian’s heavy breathing was turning him on so he had to pull away; walking around the office with a hard-on wasn’t the best look for a governor. 

Mickey ran a thumb over Ian’s bottom lip before pulling away and standing up, his crotch level with Ian’s face and giving him all kinds of flashbacks from their night together. He smirked down at Ian, patting his cheek before walking away. 

“Oh, and Ian?” Mickey paused at the conference room door. 

“Yeah?” Ian asked, looking over at him. 

“You owe me a fucking new shirt.” Mickey laughed and then he was gone. 

Ian stared at the door for a second before looking down, shaking his head and laughing. Jesus, that man was something else, Ian thought, running his thumb over his own lip where it was still tingling from Mickey’s touch. 

He didn’t know if he was gonna start liking politics, but he definitely knew he was gonna like this job. 

  
  



	4. You Don’t Want To Break Things Off?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"So, you don't wanna break things off?" Ian asked, running his thumb over Mickey's knuckles this time when he frowned._  
>  _"Fuck no. And assuming you're single, I would really like to keep seeing you," Mickey licked his lip, looking over the half of Ian's body that wasn't hidden by the table._  
>  _"I'm not seeing anyone," Ian shook his head smiling._

Instead of going back to his own apartment after his first day, Ian decided to go to his old home. It was a risk running into Frank but he wanted to tell Debbie about his first day in person. When he got there, he flopped down onto the couch with a sigh. The job was easy but it had been a long time since he had to wake up early and be an adult.

Not to mention his mind going a mile a minute thinking about meeting Mickey tonight. Was it a date? Were they just fucking again? Was it strictly a meeting or was he gonna tell Ian they couldn’t see each other outside of work again? He honestly didn’t know, but when he said one of his men would be picking Ian up, he assumed they would ask where he was. Really, he just hoped Mickey wasn’t calling things off—he couldn’t be, not with the way he acted when they were alone today. 

Ian shifted onto his side, the news channel on the TV fading into the background as his eyes slid closed, his thoughts going to Mickey, their night together and that goddamn half-kiss today. Ian could still taste his tongue, or he was just being obsessive and thought he could still taste Mickey. Fuck, he definitely wanted to taste Mickey—Ian’s thoughts were cut off by a loud shriek. 

“Jesus, Debbie,” Ian howled as he jumped up rubbing his ear. 

“Ian, for fuck’s sake, the least you could do is announce your presence, you scared me. How was your first day?” she asked, flopping down onto the couch next to him. Ian sighed and leaned back, propping his feet up on the coffee table. 

“It was...intense,” Ian offered, wondering if he should tell her about Mickey. 

“Well, give me some details,” She practically squealed. 

“You know how Friday Frank and I got into it so I just took off?” Ian asked waiting for Debbie’s nod before continuing, “I went out to this place on the northside—“ 

“You didn’t drink, did you?” Debbie cut him off with a disapproving scowl. 

“Do you wanna hear the story or not?” Ian asked. Debbie rolled her eyes and made a show of zipping her lips, motioning for him to continue. 

“I hooked up with this guy. It wasn’t the reason I went out but this guy, he was fucking amazing and I couldn’t have turned him down even if I wanted to,” Ian started again, sighing. 

“Uh huh,” Debbie nodded. 

“Well, I think I fell in love a little bit that night,” Ian confessed, his mind going back to Friday night Mickey’s lips on his, his tongue in his mouth, his soft skin, those warm hands touching him, how he tasted and moaned Ian’s name when he was inside of him— 

“Ow, the fuck, Debs!” Ian snapped, looking over at his sister when she hit his arm but she just shrugged. 

“You zoned out. So, who is this guy? What does he have to do with your first day?” Debbie asked, turning more to face her brother. 

“I found out we’re gonna be working together,” Ian answered, still frowning at his sister for hitting him. 

“No way, who is he?” Debbie asked, full gossip mode. 

“My boss,” Ian answered sheepishly. 

“Is he high up? One of the governor's men?” Debbie asked, a bit too excited. Ian found it amusing. 

“Uh, no, the man himself,” Ian confessed watching realization in Debbies eyes as they widened. 

“You slept with the governor?  _ The  _ Mickey Milkovich?” Debbie whisper-yelled at him. 

“Yes—Jesus!” he exclaimed, moving away from her when she slapped his arm again. 

“Bullishit, you fucked Milkovich,” Lip scoffed, walking in from the kitchen. 

“Why would I lie about that?” Ian asked, narrowing his eyes at his siblings. 

“Have you seen him? That man is as straight as they come. If he’s gay, then so am I,” Lip laughed and Ian rolled his eyes. 

“Uh huh. Yeah,” Ian nodded. 

“I want proof,” Lip snorted looking at his brother. 

“What kind of proof? You want a video of us fucking?” Ian asked laughing when Lip grimaced. 

“We shared a room for too damn long. I've seen enough  _ Ian  _ to last a lifetime,” Lip shook his head, his brother and sister laughing at him again. 

“Believe it or not, we hooked up and he was very gay for me,” Ian retorted, trying his hardest not to zone out again. 

“Yeah, you wish,” Lip snorted, slapping Ian’s shoulder before heading upstairs. 

“Are you gonna do it again?” Debbie asked, Ian motioned for her to wait a second and pulled out his vibrating cell. 

_ To: Ian _

_ From: Unknown  _

_ Where are you? I’ll send someone. -M  _

“We are supposed to meet tonight. I don’t really know what’s gonna happen,” Ian answered, texting the address back to Mickey. “Gotta shower, Debs.” Ian squeezed her thigh, hopping off the couch before she could ask any more questions. 

About an hour later Ian was in the back of a black Suburban heading uptown. He hadn’t heard back from Mickey and the guy driving him wouldn’t speak, so he was just trusting the process for now. The SUV came to a stop but the windows were so dark that Ian couldn’t see out of them. He attempted to open the door but he couldn’t, and only a second later another man in dark shades and a suit was opening the door for him. 

“Mr. Gallagher, come with me please,” the second man instructed. Ian realized they were outside of a restaurant, a nice restaurant that he would have never come to by himself strictly because he wouldn’t have been able to afford it. He wasn’t used to all this formality but he had to admit he felt a bit special. 

The man led him through the restaurant; it was almost completely empty except for a lone waiter and who he assumed was the cook in the kitchen. They walked into a larger area and Ian’s heart beat faster when he spotted Mickey at one of the tables, phone to his ear and not looking particularly happy. But he smiled when he saw Ian. He gestured for Ian to sit and wait a moment, then dismissed the other man, leaving them completely alone. 

“Fine. But get it done and get it done fucking quickly.” Mickey snapped into the phone, closing it and sliding it into his suit jacket. 

“Sorry about that.” Mickey offered a small smile and Ian relaxed a bit but he was still tense. 

“That’s okay,” Ian reassured him, not meeting Mickey’s eye directly—in all honesty, all of this was a bit intimidating. Mickey could tell he was uncomfortable so he reached out, grabbing one of Ian’s hands to hold in his, running his thumb along fading bruised knuckles. 

“You alright?” Mickey asked, smiling when Ian actually met his eye. 

“Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed,” Ian confessed, feeling goosebumps on his skin when Mickey squeezed his hand before pulling away. 

Ian watched confused as Mickey stood up, sliding off his suit jacket, popping open the top few buttons of his shirt, using a napkin to wipe off the makeup on his knuckles and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. A slow smile pulled at his lips when he finally realized what Mickey was doing. 

“Better?” he asked, holding his arms out. 

“Much, actually,” Ian laughed, keeping eye contact as Mickey sat back down. 

“You hungry?” Mickey lifted a hand to beckon the chef over when Ian nodded. 

“Spaghetti?” Ian cocked a brow at Mickey when the two plates were sat in front of them. 

“Better to be a safe man, had to make sure you’d like whatever I chose.” Ian nearly swooned at Mickey’s thoughtfulness but kept himself in check with a small smile as he picked up his fork and took a bite, humming because it was actually really good. 

“You do that every morning?” Ian asked, gesturing to Mickey’s knuckles. 

“My sister, she covers them for me. Had to convince her I didn’t fuck a vampire over the weekend with all the hickeys you left behind.” Mickey smirked, licking his thumb and rubbing at a spot on his neck until it revealed a fading hickey and Ian couldn’t stop from smirking himself. He hadn’t even realized he left hickeys on Mickey but he really liked the way Mickey looked with his mark.

They sat there eating for a while. Mickey had wine brought over and they had small talk. Ian couldn’t help but want more with this man and he barely even knew him. How would a relationship work between them though? Did Mickey even date or was this just a fling? Surely Mickey wouldn’t go through the trouble of taking him to dinner if it was only a one-night stand. Maybe he was only here because Mickey needed to make sure he could still be professional since they were now working together. 

Ian’s heart dropped to his stomach at the thought and he really didn’t want to eat any more. Pushing his plate away, he took a deep breath. Mickey picked up on his soured mood and pushed his own plate away, dabbing his mouth with a napkin and waved the server over who quickly cleared their table. 

“What’s wrong?” Mickey asked worriedly once they were alone. 

“You said you’d look for me but you never did,” Ian stated, and for a second he thought he was being dramatic, but he didn’t want a one night stand, he didn’t even want just a fling. 

“I was going to,” Mickey started, drawing a doubtful look from Ian, “I’m fucking serious. As soon as I had time, I was gonna come back to your place,” 

“Really?” Ian asked, relaxing a bit when he realized Mickey was sincere. 

“Yeah, I didn’t have any plans to let you get away. Finally found someone to fuck the shit out of me and not treat me like fragile bitch just cause I’m the governor. I was relieved as fuck when I walked up and you had no idea who I was,” Mickey explained, reaching across the table to take Ian’s hand again. 

“So, you don’t wanna break things off?” Ian asked, running his thumb over Mickey’s knuckles this time when he frowned. 

“Fuck no. And assuming you’re single, I would really like to keep seeing you.” Mickey licked his lip, looking over the half of Ian’s body that wasn’t hidden by the table. 

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Ian said as he shook his head, smiling. 

“Good, now, you wanna get the fuck out of here?” Mickey smirked when Ian nodded eagerly. Ian was so tempted to take Mickey’s hand but decided against it, knowing people probably shouldn’t see them holding hands right now. Once outside, Mickey walked around the car knocking on the window. 

“Get out, I need the car,” Mickey ordered, the driver glancing at Ian then back. 

“Mr. Milkovich—“ 

“Dave, I’ll be back in like fifteen,” Mickey rolled his eyes. Dave got out, reluctantly handing the keys to Mickey. Ian got in the passenger seat quickly, thankful for the tinted windows now. They didn’t drive far before Mickey was pulling over behind a big building. 

“Come here,” Mickey grinned, reaching across the console to grab Ian’s face and kissing him hard. They crawled over one another to get into the back seat while still trying to kiss. Stripping each other, Ian flipped Mickey onto his back. 

“Fuck, I don’t have any lube,” Ian groaned. 

“Good fucking thing I do.” Mickey grinned and reached onto the floor board, pulling out a small tube. 

“Cocky much?” Ian teased, taking the bottle. 

“Not cocky, just prepared,” he chuckled, throwing one leg over the back of the seat and letting Ian lift the other onto his shoulder.

“If you were prepared, you would’ve prepped yourself,” Ian tried to tease until Mickey smirked at him. 

“Who said I didn’t? Now get the fuck inside of me.” Mickey wrapped an arm around Ian’s neck, swallowing down his groan when he realized Mickey was indeed already prepped.  _ Fuck that’s hot. _

Ian spread some lube on his cock and leaned over Mickey to get a better angle before lining himself up. A hand on his face made him pause, passionate green eyes meeting blue eyes filled with so much desire—it shook Ian to his core. He kept the eye contact while pushing in slowly, his jaw falling slack at the look on Mickey’s beautiful face. 

“Fuck, Mick,” Ian moaned, the nickname making Mickey’s stomach twist as he kissed Ian again, rolling his hips up to encourage Ian to move. He moaned loudly when Ian pulled back and thrusted back in slowly. 

Ian kept a slow pace for a moment, wanting to savor the way Mickey felt. He was overwhelmed by how he was feeling for the man under him. He knew it was only their second time together—the third time they’d actually seen each other—but he didn’t care. He knew he was falling too hard too fast, but it was too late to pull back from the edge that he was dangerously dangling over. Mickey unknowingly had the power to rip his heart apart and Ian simply didn’t care, especially not now when he was fucking Mickey so hard the man clawed at his back and screamed his name. 

“Oh, god, Ian, right there. I’m so fucking close,” Mickey cried, sliding his leg from Ian’s shoulder to pull him closer. 

“Fuck, tell me how bad you want it,” Ian growled, biting at Mickey’s neck harshly. 

“I want it so fucking bad, oh god. I wanna cum all over you, please.” Mickey tugged his hair and scratched down his back, meeting each of Ian’s thrusts with his own. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” Ian muttered, reaching between them to pump Mickey’s cock in time with his thrust. He could tell Mickey was close, shifting his hips enough and felt when he hit that little bundle of nerves. That was enough to have Mickey coming undone underneath him. 

Ian came only a few thrusts later when Mickey bit down on his collarbone and he was filling him up. Judging from the way Mickey’s fingertips soothed the burning scratches on Ian’s back, he felt the same way. Ian practically collapsed against Mickey’s chest and pressed slow, sweet kisses to his neck. 

“Yeah, I don’t think this is ever gonna get old,” Ian breathed, one of hands sliding along Mickey’s thigh. 

“I agree. Fuck, I’d take you home tonight if I wasn’t working,” Mickey admitted; he would spend a week in bed with Ian if he could. 

“You can always have your men come kidnap me whenever you’re free.” Ian shrugged, lifting up on his forearm so he could look at Mickey. 

“Mm. Don’t tempt me, Gallagher.” 


	5. Alone? Yes. Naked? No.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Hm. Alone? Yes. Naked? No. But I can definitely get naked if you ask me nicely,” Ian smirked, grinning when he heard Mickey breath hitch through the speaker._

It had been a little over two weeks since Ian and Mickey had dinner together. That night, Dave drove Ian back to the house instead of his apartment and met some of the family. Well, he came inside to pee, the whole family stared at him, Carl fangirled a bit and Lip lost his bet to Debbie that Ian was telling the truth about sleeping with the governor. 

It was lunch time now and Mickey had called Ian into his office, like he’d done every day for the last few weeks, so they could have lunch together. Ian had to admit, it was really sweet and he liked not having to pay for his own lunch every day. 

“Am I supposed to be here as much as I have this past week?” Ian asked, taking a sip of his drink. “I don't want to seem like a teacher's pet.” 

“Even if you are a teacher's pet?” Mickey snorted, picking up his own drink. 

“Especially since I am the teacher’s pet,” Ian chuckled and Mickey laughed with him. 

“No, it’s fine. You’re my staff assistant, like a fucking secretary or some shit. You’re supposed to spend the majority of your time here with me.” Mickey shrugged and took another drink of water. Ian licked his lips watching Mickey’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat and a lone water droplet slid down his chin. 

“Do all of your secretaries think about pinning you down on this huge desk and fucking the shit out of you bareback?” Ian asked, laughing when Mickey choked on his water, clearing his throat a few times and flipping Ian off. Biting his lip, Mickey was about to respond when there was a knock on the door. He looked Ian up and down as he went back to his food. 

“Yeah,” Mickey called out to whoever was at the door. 

“Mr. Milkovich, your 2 o’clock is here,” Charlotte announced from the partially open door. 

“Thank you, Charlotte, give me five minutes before you bring them back,” Mickey replied before dismissing her. 

Ian stood up to help Mickey clear his desk of their lunch and put all of his documents and files back in their original places. He was ready to turn away to walk out when he was grabbed around the waist and pulled into a kiss. God, they both lived for these kisses even though they had to be in secret. Mickey’s chest heaved when Ian sighed into the kiss; he wanted to pull the redhead closer and deepen the kiss but he knew now wasn’t the time. 

“I wanna see you tonight,” he breathed against Ian’s lips, his hand still resting on the small of his back. 

“Name the time and place. I’ll be there,” Ian promised, pecking his lips again before pulling away and leaving the office and heading to his own. 

***

_ To: Mickey _

_ From: Ian _

_ I’ve got a question about your schedule, let me know when you can talk. _

Ian sent the message as he scanned the screen. Part of his job was also to help Charlotte, and recently she had him in charge of Mickey’s schedule: she would make a rough draft and he would finalize it. Today, there was a problem with this: she had two important meetings scheduled for the same day and time, so that needed to be straightened out before it caused issues. 

He was surprised when a hand landed particularly hard on his desk causing a louder than necessary smacking sound in the small office. Ian fought the urge to roll his eyes and looked up at the young guy standing in front of his desk. He knew he shouldn’t have just left his door open like that. 

“Hello, Ian,” 

“Hey, Brian?” Ian greeted, cringing internally knowing that wasn’t the right name. 

“It’s Byron,” the guy corrected, looking offended. 

“Sure,” Ian shrugged, already bored with this conversation and getting annoyed when  _ Byron  _ sat on the edge of the desk 

“See, when Charlotte said you would be dealing with the governor, I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean spending every lunch hour with him.” Ian furrowed his brow, closing out Mickey’s schedule and looking back at the guy on his desk. 

“I’m the staff assistant, my job entails—“ 

“Having lunch with the governor alone every day? I don’t think so,” Byron sneered.  _ Ah, that’s what this is, jealousy,  _ Ian thought, sizing up the smaller man. 

“My job is that I do what the governor wants when he wants, even having lunch with him. Anyway, is there a point to all of...this?” Ian asked, gesturing to Byron sitting on his desk but didn’t get an answer. 

“Look, not that I owe you shit, but when you go in there, the governor and I are completely professional. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have shit to do.” Ian pushed hard at his thigh, causing him to stumble before shooing him away and listening to the door bang closed. His phone buzzed and he smiled at the messages that contradicted what he just told Byron. 

_ To: Ian _

_ From: Mickey _

_ Call you back to my office in a bit. Apparently a thing came up that I have to attend tonight but I still want to see you. You own a suit I can tear off of you after? _

_ To: Mickey _

_ From: Ian _

_ Won’t it be public? We can’t be seen together _

_ To: Ian _

_ From: Mickey _

_ I’ll feel better knowing you’re around _

Ian grinned as he read the message. Knowing Mickey really meant it made Ian’s heart flutter like a teenage schoolgirl.

_ To: Mickey _

_ From: Ian _

_ Pretty sure no suit I own will be appropriate for one of your things _

_ To: Ian _

_ From: Mickey _

_ Dave will take care of it, can’t wait to see you _

_ *** _

The rest of the day was uneventful and thankfully no more issues from Byron—he really didn’t want to have to put the twink in his place. Dave had dropped him off at his apartment with what looked like a very expensive suit. Apparently Mickey picked it out and couldn’t wait to see him in it. He had a couple hours until Dave would be back, so he collapsed onto the couch with a sigh, his phone ringing just when he closed his eyes. 

“Yeah, Debs?” Ian asked, rubbing his eyes. 

_ “Sorry, wrong person.”  _ Ian opened his eyes hearing that voice. 

“Well, hello,” he grinned, shifting on the couch to get more comfortable. 

_ “You wouldn’t happen to be alone and naked right now, huh?”< _ Mickey asked, leaning back in his chair. 

“Hm. Alone? Yes. Naked? No. But I can definitely get naked if you ask nicely.” Ian smirked, grinning when he heard Mickey breath hitch through the speaker. 

_ “Get naked for me, please?”  _ Mickey’s voice was soft and seductive and it made Ian’s cock twitch. 

“Fuck yeah, baby, you wanna see?” Ian asked. Mickey mewled at the new pet name and the sound of Ian’s belt buckle coming undone. 

_ “Mhmm,”  _ was all Mickey could manage as he massaged his hard cock through his slacks. Listening to Ian undressing had him so fucking hard. 

“Check your phone, baby,” Ian breathed, pumping his cock slowly. 

_ “Holy fuck,”  _ Mickey whimpered, actually whimpered when he opened the photo message. 

Ian was laying down his pale skin a beautiful contrast against the dark blue sofa he was laying on. His long arm stretched out to take the picture, the other resting by his side supporting his half-hard cock. His legs were spread, giving Mickey an even better view of that cock. He pulled his own cock from his slacks and stroked it a few times. 

“You like?” Ian asked, smirking to himself. 

_ “Fuck, yeah. What I would give to be riding you into that couch right now,”  _ Mickey moaned, head dropping back against the chair he was in. 

“Shit, I would do anything to have you riding me, Mick,” Ian retorted, eyes sliding closed to picture that exact scenario. 

_ “Wanna cum from your voice, baby,”  _ Mickey moaned, not caring that he let the term of endearment slip from his lips, and Ian—well, hearing Mickey call him ‘baby’ was a huge turn-on he didn’t know he had. 

“Can I see that pretty little cock, Mickey?” Ian asked sweetly, his cock jumping at the thought of seeing Mickey’s. Mickey moaned but hesitated. 

“I get it if you can’t, baby, I can’t just talk to you,” Ian cut in before his lover could respond. 

_ “Nah, I trust you, Ian,”  _ Mickey breathed into the phone and god, did he fucking mean it. He trusted Ian more than he’d ever trusted anyone. Ian’s heart swelled with pride at the admission of trust and it turns out that’s also a turn on for him. 

“Fuck, Mick, you don’t know how much that means to me. I fucking trust you, with everything,” Ian promised and he wasn’t planning on getting all sentimental—neither of them were—but here they were. 

_ “Check your messages,”  _ Mickey said, biting his lip because there were just too many damn emotions for him to handle right now. 

“Oh, Mick,” Ian moaned looking at the picture. 

Mickey was very obviously still in his office and still fully dressed in a button-down and slacks. His hand was braced at the base of his cock. The angle was far enough away for Ian to tell it was his but not enough for his whole face to be in the shot which was a shame, but Ian understood why. His mouth watered as he followed the pretty little vein on the underside of Mickey’s cock from base to the rosy pink, leaking tip. 

“Naughty boy, you're still at the office,” Ian started, stroking himself again. 

_ “I couldn’t wait to see you tonight,”  _ Mickey answered simply and Ian could just picture him shrugging. 

“Hmm, I’m not complaining, but I definitely wish I was there with you.” Ian looked over the picture again, his eyes landing on the half of Mickey’s face he could see, beautiful plump lips parted and shining with saliva. 

_ “Tell me,”  _ Mickey said, Ian furrowed his brow at that. 

“Tell you what, baby?” Ian asked, listening to the breathy pants coming through the speaker. 

_ “Tell me what you’d do to me if you were here,”  _ Mickey practically begged, hand pumping his cock because Ian’s picture along with his voice were just too goddamn sexy. But Ian didn’t even hesitate. 

“I’d start by getting real close to you, running my hands up and down your body because I know you like that. I’d strip you down, slowly kiss all over your body cause it’s the only time you actually like me going slow.” Ian put the phone back to his ear to focus on the little noises Mickey was making. 

“Grab you by the back of your thighs and lift you up onto your desk. Push all that shit off so I have room to fuck you. I’d stand between your legs, grinding against you nice and slow until you’re whimpering my name.” Ian was rewarded with exactly that, Mickey whimpering his name over the line. 

“After getting you completely naked, I’d lay you back and spread your legs, kneel down next to your desk and take that pretty little cock in my mouth and finger your tight ass, probably even rim you just so I can taste you.” Mickey let out a moan that time, biting his lip but a small whimper escaped. 

“Hmm. I’d have to put my hand over your mouth to keep you quiet so no one else hears. Not because we have to be a secret, but because you're mine and I don’t want anyone else hearing all the sexy fucking noises you make,” Ian practically growled into the phone, knowing Mickey was stroking himself faster by the way his breathing increased. 

“I’d push in slow at first but then I would fuck you absolutely raw, pound you into your fucking desk so hard you wouldn’t be able to sit in there without thinking about me.” Ian sped up his hand just imagining actually being able to fuck him like that. 

_ “Ian please, I’m so close,”  _ Mickey begged and Ian knew what he wanted; after these weeks together, Ian found that Mickey definitely had a thing for Ian giving him permission to cum. 

“Fuck, you’d be arching up into me, crying my name even with your mouth covered, hands clawing at my back. I’d lean real close and tell you to  _ cum for me, Mickey, _ ” Ian whispered like he normally would and those last words were magic; Mickey came hard, nearly dropping the phone as cum covered his hand. Listening to Mickey was enough to push Ian over the edge along with this fantasy, and he came all over his belly. 

_ “Shit, you’re good in bed, you give good head and you give good phone sex? Like I won the damn lottery,”  _ Mickey’s breathless voice made Ian chuckle, reaching behind him to grab a tissue to wipe off his stomach. 

“I could say the same; trust me, I’m definitely getting it as good as I’m giving it. Fuck, Mick,” Ian nearly groaned, his cock have an appreciative twitch but he wouldn’t be able to get it up again right now. 

_ “I’ll see you tonight, baby.”  _ Mickey and Ian both smiled because Ian realized the pet name wasn’t just a slip in the heat of the moment and Mickey decided that Ian was the only one he wanted to call baby. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you tonight, Mick.”


	6. The Fucks Going On In Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“The fucks going on in here?” Mickey’s voice boomed in the closed bathroom, Ian’s stomach lurched in his body and he thought he might puke._  
>  _“Nothing, Ian and I were just about to get out of here, right?” Lishman looked at Ian but he couldn’t look away from Mickey._  
>  _“I believe he actually told you to take your fucking hands off of him,” Mickey snarled._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter mentions implied/referenced past rape/non-con towards the end.

“Uh, Dave, Austin, I am not walking through that.” Ian looked out the window nervously; the red carpet and photographers were too much and it started to feel like his suit tie was choking him. 

“What do you mean?” Austin asked, turning around to face Ian from the passenger seat. 

”I mean is there a back door or something, because I can’t walk through that,” Ian shook his head. 

Austin’s expression was unreadable, watching Ian fidget uncomfortably. The man signaled for Dave to keep driving and Ian had never been more relieved. He adjusted his tie and relaxed against the seat as they made their way around the hotel. Yeah, he definitely wasn’t gonna need more time to be comfortable in this lifestyle. 

The hotel was insanely crowded and Ian actually got there on time; he couldn’t imagine how packed it would be once everyone arrived. He looked around and didn’t recognize any of these faces but he knew if Debbie or Fiona were here, they would probably freak out over a lot of these people. Once he entered the main area, he spotted Mickey immediately; he was talking to two important-looking men and as much as he wanted to, Ian couldn’t bring himself to walk over. 

“Champagne?” A caterer approached him with a tray filled with champagne flutes and even a couple bottles of water; Ian looked at the tantalizing bubbly liquid , but opted for the bottled water. 

Sure, he’d had drinks on his meds before, but it wasn’t something he did often. Sometimes it would make him act like he hadn’t taken the meds at all. He wasn’t gonna take the risk of doing something crazy with photographers here. So, he took a sip from the bottle and leaned against the wall watching his lover across the room. 

Mickey looked absolutely handsome wearing a dark gray suit that looked amazing against his skin. His tattoos as always were covered up and his hair was slicked back. He was nursing a half-full glass of champagne and he was laughing about something. After about an hour, Ian noticed Mickey kept checking his watch and he wondered if he was waiting on Ian. Ian had successfully dodged anyone he thought might be aiming to talk to him. He pushed off the wall ready to finally go find Mickey and talk to him. 

“Hey.” Ian stopped, feeling a hand on his shoulder. He knew immediately that it wasn’t Mickey and was still disappointed when he turned around. 

“Oh, hi,” Ian greeted, taking half a step back from the older man who was too close for comfort. 

“I’m Dr. Lishman.” The man offered his hand and Ian took it hesitantly, getting weird vibes from this guy that he didn’t like. 

“So, what do you do?” Lishman asked, leaning forward a bit and making Ian tense up. 

“Oh, um, I’m nobody, I was just invited. I work for the governor,” Ian answered, taking another step back. 

“Are you here  _ with _ him?” the man asked and Ian furrowed his brow at the emphasis— _ what the fuck was that even supposed to mean? _

“Are we doing okay over here?” Ian’s heart fluttered when Mickey suddenly stood beside him, excitement bubbling inside of him when Mickey’s hand brushed his briefly. 

“Governor Milkovich, it’s good to see you again,” Lishman grinned, offering a hand that Mickey practically sneered at. 

“Yeah, you too,” Mickey nodded, ignoring the hand, which didn’t seem to faze Lishman at all. 

“You’re doing a great job,” he complimented before his eyes cut to Ian, looking him up and down. Mickey’s blood boiled at the sight and forced himself to stay in check. 

“Uh huh. Thanks. If you’ll excuse us,” Mickey gritted through clenched teeth. 

“Of course,” Lishman nodded, checking Ian out again before walking away. 

Mickey glared at the man as he walked away, but once he was gone, he couldn’t look at Ian, scared that if he did, he would pull him into a kiss then and there. 

“That’s been your first and only glass all night,” Ian stated, tapping the rim of Mickey’s glass with his finger. 

“What, you’ve been watching me, Gallagher?” Mickey looked up and met his eyes. 

“Of course I was, you’re the only reason I’m here,” Ian smiled. It took everything in him not to reach out and caress Mickey’s cheek but he was just glad Mickey was smiling again. 

“Yeah, I hate this shit. Liquor and beer are really the only things I like but champagne looks good in press photos.” Mickey shrugged, bumping his shoulder into Ian’s. “So, you know him?” he asked after a second, clearing his throat. 

“The old guy? No. He just came up and started talking to me. You know him?” Ian asked, turning to face Mickey. 

“Yeah, I do, unfortunately. Guy’s creepy as shit. Has a reputation of messing with underage boys. Only reason he’s not in jail is because there’s no hard evidence,” Mickey explained, clenching his jaw again. He’d wanted to punch Lishman in the face since the first day they met, but seeing him talking to Ian, how he was making his lover uncomfortable, was enough for Mickey to seriously consider punching him in the face. 

“Oh, jeez. What a piece of shit.” Ian shook his head in disgust. 

“Yeah. Unfortunately there're too many men like him here. If I could have him thrown in jail I would, but there’s some things even I can’t do, though I have been considering sending my brothers after him,” Mickey confessed and Ian chuckled despite knowing he was being completely serious. 

“So, you got a room here?” Ian asked casually, raising his eyebrows as he took a sip of water. 

“What’s it to ya?” Mickey asked, looking Ian up and down because goddamn, he did a good job choosing that suit he was wearing. Ian shrugged and returned the look. 

“Mmm. Think I’m gonna head to the bathroom,” Ian smirked. 

“Meet you at five,” Mickey smirked back, voice low enough that Ian just barely heard him before heading to the hall he came in through earlier. 

Ian actually did take the time to piss, leaning against the counter and sticking a cigarette between his lips. This was a fancy-ass hotel so he was sure he probably shouldn’t be smoking in here, but they also probably were supposed to fuck in here either. What were they gonna do, kick him out? Ian chuckled to himself. His stomach jumped excitedly when he heard someone outside the door but frowned when Lishman walked in. 

“Ian, fancy running into you,” Lishman grinned, walking across the rather large bathroom. 

“Yeah, I was just leaving,” Ian gritted, putting out the cigarette on the side of the counter, and moving to walk around Lishman. 

“Come on, don’t be like that.” Lishman placed a hand against Ian’s chest to stop him. 

“Take your hand off of me.” Ian was ready to punch the creep, the whole situation bringing back memories he wanted to forget. 

“I can show you a good time, I’ve got money and—“

“I said take your fucking hand off of me,” Ian cut him off, grabbing his wrist in a painful grip and pushing him back. 

“You little bitch, you think just because you’ve got the governor no one else is good enough for you,” Lishman growled, walking up to Ian and pushing him back hard enough that he stumbled and ended up against the wall. Ian completely froze—all he could think about is what Caleb did to him. 

“The fucks going on in here?” Mickey’s voice boomed in the closed bathroom. Ian’s stomach lurched and he thought he might puke. 

“Nothing, Ian and I were just about to get out of here, right?” Lishman glared at Ian—frozen, Ian couldn’t take his eyes off Mickey.

“I believe he actually told you to take your fucking hands off of him,” Mickey corrected— _ he heard that?  _ Ian thought, still feeling nauseous with the doctor so close to him. 

“Did you hear me? Back the fuck up,” Mickey growled, and Lishman practically jumped away. 

“Why do you care, huh? Is he your newest boy toy or some shit? He’s no different than any of the other little whores you bring around—“

Lishman didn’t get to finish what he was saying before Mickey’s fist was slamming against his jaw so hard it knocked him back. Ian was frozen for a second until he saw Lishman swing at Mickey. Ian had to admit, this piece of shit was putting up a fight. 

“Hey!” A voice Ian couldn’t quite pinpoint boomed, a hand pulling him back to see Mickey standing over Lishman punching him again and again. 

“Mickey! Mickey, fucking stop!” Austin yelled, pulling his boss away and practically throwing him towards Ian. 

“You really fucked up this time, Lishman,” Austin snarled, pulling the man up, and Ian felt a sick pride when he saw the man's swollen, bloody face. 

“Aye, you two okay? Need me to call the doc?” Dave, who Ian just realized was the one to pull him back, asked. 

“No. Go block the door to this hall. Need to get Ian up to the room,” Mickey ordered, Dave nodded, moving towards the door, leaving out and knocking on the door to let them know the coast was clear.

“Come on,” Mickey called, walking quickly and only briefly glancing back to make sure Ian was following. 

Ian followed him silently, feeling like a little kid about to get scolded and he hated it. He hadn’t meant to ruin Mickey’s night or make him mad, but here they were, riding the elevator silently, Mickey putting off anger like a furnace; Ian almost wanted to cry.  _ Cry? _ Weird—he never cried for anything. 

There were only a few rooms on this floor and Ian assumed they were like those executive suites that cost a shit ton of money. He followed Mickey into the room at the end of the hall. Well, it was more like a tiny apartment but Ian wasn’t complaining. As soon as the door was shut, Mickey walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, setting it on the counter roughly, letting out an angry, jagged breath, and all Ian could do was stand there and watch. 

“Mickey, I’m sorry,” Ian apologized, surprised when Mickey looked over quickly and walked back towards him. 

“The fuck you apologizing for?” Mickey asked and Ian fought the urge not to flinch at his words. 

“I-I should have stopped him,” Ian mumbled, looking into Mickey's confused blue eyes. 

“Ian, that shit isn’t on you. I told you, he’s a fucking creep. You asked him to stop and he didn’t, and I wasn’t gonna let him talk about you like that,” Mickey tried to reassure but he could see it in Ian’s eyes that he was blaming himself. 

“So I didn’t ruin your evening?” Ian asked, looking down at his feet because seeing Mickey’s bloody face made him feel like shit. 

“Ian, baby, look at me,” Mickey caressed his cheek, tilting his head up gently, pressing a small kiss to his lips, not caring that he could taste Ian’s blood mixed with his own. 

“You didn’t ruin tonight because what happened wasn’t your fault. Are you okay?” Mickey asked when Ian’s eyes filled with tears—clearly this wasn’t just about Lishman. 

“No,” Ian started, his voice shaky as he melted against Mickey. 

“Can you talk to me about it?” Mickey asked, pleading a bit because all he wanted to do was make Ian feel better. 

“Promise you won’t think any different about me?” Ian asked and something about that just didn’t sit right with Mickey, but he nodded anyway, whispering a soft ‘I promise’ and let Ian lead him over to the couch in the living room. 

“Last year I dated this guy, Caleb. He was a firefighter and I was going through a phase where I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. I dropped out—I didn’t have the money to go to college and I just got stuck. I had told Caleb about the way I was feeling and they let me go on a few runs. I kind of fell in love with it. The adrenaline, helping people, all of it. He suggested I become a fireman for real and I could start out by becoming an EMT. I finished at the top of my class and scored higher than everyone. It was probably one of the better times in my life.I felt like I finally had a purpose, like I wasn’t just another person on this earth,” Ian explained, loving the way Mickey was watching him, hanging on to his every word, but he didn’t know if Mickey would see him the same way, so he took a second to soak in that look. Mickey sensed Ian’s nervousness; he reached out, placing a hand on his knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Well, at the time, I really didn’t have much money, so Caleb was helping me, letting me stay with him and everything. One night I went home, Debbie had some kind of school play and we all promised to be there, when—uh, when I went back to Caleb’s, he was there with another guy. They had obviously been fucking. I just wanted to leave but he talked me into staying so we could talk. I really just wanted to get my shit and leave. He started talking about wanting to have a three-way, and an open relationship and shit, but I said no. I didn’t want anything like that and he didn’t like that so he and the other guy held me down and took turns with me…” Ian trailed off. He couldn’t look at Mickey; he couldn’t see the pity he knew would be in those beautiful eyes. 

“Ian, I am so sorry you had to go through that. You are so fucking strong,” Mickey breathed, scooting closer and when Ian looked up, he nearly started crying when there was no trace of pity on Mickey’s face. 

“You don’t like, think I’m broken or some shit?” Ian asked, feeling a tear slide down his cheek. 

“No, baby, because you’re not broken.” Mickey shook his head, pulling Ian into a hug and just letting him break down. 


	7. Did You Fucking Know Already?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Fuck!" Mickey screamed, rushing over to the table, slinging his arms to knock everything off of the table including the two cups of coffee that smashed against the wall._  
>  _Fuck, Mickey was never gonna be able to unsee that look of hurt and betrayal on Ian's face._

“Mmm, good morning,” Ian yawned, arching into Mickey’s body as he stretched. 

“Good morning,” Mickey grinned, running his hand along Ian’s bare back before pulling him closer. 

Last night after Ian had calmed down, they took turns cleaning each other up and thankfully, neither of them needed stitches. Austin and Dave stopped by to let them know Lishman had been arrested for assaulting the governor and his ‘co-worker’, and it was a headline on almost every newspaper, magazine and news channel in their area. Thankfully there were really no details and no pictures of Ian; everyone was pretty much focused on Mickey, which Ian didn’t mind at all. 

“Feeling better?” Mickey asked, caressing Ian’s face and pecking his lips softly. 

“Mhmm. You make everything better, Mick,” Ian sighed as he pressed their foreheads together. 

“I would do anything for you. You know that, right? Say the word and I’ll take care of this Caleb fucker.” There was no heat in Mickey’s voice but Ian knew he meant every word. 

“Thanks Mick, but I haven’t seen or heard from him since that night. Fiona took me to the hospital. They ran a lot on me or whatever but I never had them call the cops. Fi said in case I change my mind later on, they’ll have the kit as evidence,” Ian explained and Mickey nodded. 

“If you do change your mind, I’ll be by your side, okay?” Ian’s heart swelled—he could tell how genuine Mickey was. 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever want to go back. It was hard moving past that and trying to keep my life on track without him, but I have you now and you make me feel strong. And not in a beat-a-guy-up-in-a-fancy-bathroom type of strong,” Ian chuckled, smiling when Mickey grinned right back and kissed him.

“Alright, tough guy, you got your point across. But I gotta go shower before going to this meeting. Room’s paid for already so you can stay as long as you’d like.” Mickey kissed him deeply before rolling out of bed, heading for the other door in the room and smirking because he knew Ian was checking out his ass. 

“Hmm. I might just take you up on that. You want coffee?” Ian called after him when the shower turned on. 

“Yes, please!”

Ian chuckled getting out of bed, pulling on his boxers and walking out of the room. There were a bunch of papers on the table along with Mickey’s briefcase but Ian didn’t pay it much mind. He’d only spent a few nights with Mickey but he knew the man had a habit of waking up in the middle of the night and working. He started the coffee and looked around; the room was quite stocked for it to just be a hotel room and he wondered if this was like a regular room Mickey rented out. 

“I’m gonna miss you when you leave!” Ian decided to call out when the coffee was almost done, feeling his heart flutter when he heard Mickey’s loud laugh echo from the bathroom. 

He fixed both of them a cup of coffee and walked over to the table to set them down, taking a sip of his and sucking his teeth from the burn on his tongue. He glanced over the papers and furrowed his brow, then spotted a folder with his name on it. He knew he shouldn’t snoop but he picked up the folder anyway and flipped it open, his stomach twisting painfully when he realized what it was. 

Pinned to one side was a contract with his name printed at the top with a list of rules of what he could and couldn’t do if he were to continue his relationship with Mickey. He scanned the document angrily before looking at the other side, a stack of papers with all kinds of information about him and his family. How Fiona’d had custody of them, arrest records for the ones that had been to jail, Debbie being a teenage mom, information about Lip, shit about fucking Monica and Frank. And just to put the cherry on top of the cake, there was a whole page and a half dedicated to Ian and everything about his life from high school, to joining the military, to all the crazy shit he did before he found out about his bipolar disorder, what fucking meds he took and about being fucking raped. 

Ian was so angry he barely heard the shower turn off. Hot tears burned in his eyes as he ran back to the bedroom, throwing on his slacks from the night before, pulling on the button-up and grabbing his shoes. He grabbed his phone off the counter and left the room just as he heard Mickey’s wet feet on the hardwood. 

“So you wanna order room serv—Ian? What’s wrong?” Mickey asked, a lump already forming in his throat when he saw how angry his lover was. Ian spun around and stared Mickey down. 

“Did you fucking know already?” Ian asked, fighting you keep his voice calm and even. 

“Know what?“

“About what fucking Caleb did to me!” Ian nearly screamed and pointed at the table. Mickey felt his heart pounding—it felt like it was trying to rip out of his fucking chest and run away. 

“I didn’t know, Ian, please. I can explain,” Mickey pleaded, taking a step forward but Ian shook his head. He didn’t want to hear it. Even if Mickey didn’t know, he had still be walking around with the papers, with that contract, and never fucking told him. 

“Ian, wait!” Mickey called as he slung the door open but Ian felt like he couldn’t breathe. He needed to get out of there—he needed to go now. 

“Fuck!” Mickey screamed, rushing over to the table, slinging his arms to knock everything off of the table including the two cups of coffee that smashed against the wall. 

Fuck, Mickey was never gonna be able to unsee that look of hurt and betrayal on Ian’s face. 


	8. You Know This Is Your Fault Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"If you ever talk to the Governor like that again, I'll rip out your tongue and feed it to my dog," Austin snapped at Lip only turning and following after Mickey when he got a wide eyed nod from the boy._

It was weird for Ian, going to work and Mickey not being there. When lunch hour rolled around he was, ready to run to Mickey’s office, only to realize that one, he wasn’t there, and two, Ian was still mad. 

He wanted to let Mickey explain; he knew he needed to but on one hand if Mickey was snooping, he couldn’t just let him think it was okay. On the other hand, if Mickey had an excuse, it would completely fuck up the fact that he told Mickey he trusts him. Ian did still trust him, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel like his privacy was invaded and that just didn’t sit right with him. 

Everything that was in the file, Ian would have told Mickey eventually, just like he had with the whole Caleb situation, but he didn’t get that chance. Despite Mickey saying he didn’t know beforehand, that didn’t mean he didn’t read any of it though. Would he even still want Ian after reading how fucked up his family is? How fuck up he is? 

He scanned over Mickey’s schedule: he had three days of travel left which meant Ian could technically avoid him for three more days. Mickey had only tried to call once and Ian might have answered it had he not been sleeping. Even though he was mad, he wanted he hear Mickey’s voice and see his face because, god, he felt so fucking lonely without him. 

Two days. It had only been two days and Ian was already pining over him like a love-struck teenager, but what could he say? Mickey made him feel safe, made him feel strong and cared for. He didn’t want to lose Mickey and he didn’t want to avoid him for three more days. He just really hoped he didn’t fuck things up between him by storming out the way he did. 

_ To: Debs _

_ From: Ian _

_ Hey, gonna be on my way to the house soon. See you in a bit, gonna stay the night again :) _

Ian leaned back in his seat rocking a bit as he twirled a pen between his fingers. He reached out and pressed the button that brought up Google. He held out on actually searching Mickey because he wanted to give him some privacy,= but obviously Mickey did care about giving him the same privacy, so before he could stop himself, he was typing in Mickey’s name and hitting ‘Search’. All of the articles were pretty much the same as the ‘Images’ results. 

A horrible pain spread through his chest looking at the pictures. The first line was just pictures of Mickey from various different events. But then the pictures changed and there were multiple photos of Mickey with his arm around a pretty brunette woman and a young boy, about twelve years old, that was almost identical to Mickey. Then it hit Ian— this was Mickey’s wife and son. There were only a few of the whole family at social events; the others were from outings at restaurants, playing golf, the day he was sworn in, et cetera. 

They looked happy. They looked like a real family. Mickey had not only made Ian a homewrecker but he also lied about it. The worst part was that seeing Mickey with his son set Ian on fire and turned him into goo all at once. He wanted to admire them together but it just made him feel even worse. He was torturing himself by looking at these photos. 

Ian felt like a fool. He had serious feelings for Mickey and the fact that Mickey had the audacity to ask if he was single ‘because he doesn’t like sharing’ baffled Ian, made his eyes fill with tears of frustration. Was he really just another lay for Mickey? Just the next guy he was screwing behind his wife’s back? Mickey said he was different from the other guys so he knew there were others. But maybe it was just exciting for him—Ian was different, new. Was it just a matter of time before Mickey dropped him too?

“Fuck,” Ian growled under his breath, clicking off of the browser and digging his knuckles into his eyes harshly. “Fuck this,” he scoffed, pushing out of his seat and rushing out of the office to his car. He was so mad he was struggling to get his car unlocked and didn’t notice the man walking up to him. 

He looked over, noticing a black SUV parked behind his car and clenched his jaw. He looked down at the phone in his hands and realized Mickey was calling him which made him feel like these guys weren’t here to take him to his lover...ex-lover?

“Get in,” the guy ordered, gesturing to the car. 

“Sorry, you got the wrong guy,” Ian answered. He was about to turn back to his guy when the man stepped forward. 

“Ian Clayton Gallagher. 23 years old, third oldest of the Gallagher siblings. Born and raised on the south side of Chicago, most of your family still resides in your childhood home. And you currently work for Governor Milkovich. Don’t make us force you.” he stated, sounding quite bored but Ian could tell he was serious. 

“Uh, okay?” Ian uttered hesitantly. The man motioned towards the car again, the door opened and another man got out standing beside the door waiting for Ian to get it. 

It didn’t help his nerves to find the vehicle filled with intimidating-looking men. Ian climbed in, the man from before following suit, closing the door behind them and making the vehicle feel much smaller. Ian swallowed, feeling his phone buzz again only to have it plucked from his hand by the man next to him. None of the men looked at him. And Ian just really hoped he wasn’t about to be killed or some shit. 

***

“Austin you better have a good fucking reason for waking me up,” Mickey snapped into the phone as he rubbed his eyes. 

_ “Uh, yeah. I was waiting for Ian to get out of work yesterday; he insisted on taking his own car. I thought he just slipped past me so I went to his apartment and the sister's house but he wasn’t there—“  _

“What the fuck do you mean he wasn’t there?” Mickey asked sitting up in bed. 

_ “Well, I waited outside for a while and the sister, Debbie, came out and said Ian wasn’t there and that he never came back after work,” _ Austin explained, digging his nails into his palm knowing Mickey was gonna have his ass for losing Ian. 

“I’m gonna call, Debbie. Do me a fucking favor and make sure no other Gallaghers go fucking missing.” Mickey ended the call before Austin could answer, looking at his phone a second later to see that Austin had sent the sister’s number but he needed a minute. 

Mickey’s heart was pounding at the thought of Ian possibly missing or being in trouble. It hurt his heart so badly because they ended things on a terrible note and he didn’t know if he even had the right to be worried right now. He dialed Debbie’s number and waited for her to answer. 

_ “Hello? Ian?”  _ Debbie’s voice called through the phone and that only hurt Mickey’s heart more. 

“No, it’s Mickey.” 

_ “Mickey? How’d you get my number?”  _ Debbie asked and Mickey fought back a chuckle about how unimportant that question was to the situation. 

“I’m the governor, Debbie. Austin tells me you think something might have happened to Ian?” 

_ “Yeah, he didn’t come home after work,” _ she answered but didn’t offer any further explanation. 

“Maybe he just needed some space?” Mickey partially snapped—he wasn’t angry, just confused. 

_ “I would agree with you if he had taken his meds with him. But since the two of you got into it, he’s been staying here. Said he was on his way and everything but never showed up-“  _

“Okay, Debbie, I get it. Look, I'm taking the first flight back to Chicago and coming straight to your house.” He didn’t give the girl a chance to respond before he hung up. 

_ Fuck, is that why he didn’t answer my call?  _ Mickey thought as he started dressing, having a mental ‘fuck it’ moment. He wasn’t in the mood for a fucking suit and tie, especially not if he was about to go beat the fuck out of somebody for touching Ian. He didn’t give a fuck if they left off on a bad note; Ian was still too important to him to let anything bad happen. 

When he got back to Chicago, Dave was waiting for him and rushed him down to the south side. As soon as he got out of the car, his eyes landed on Austin and he was ready to punch him. One job. He had one job and that was to make sure Ian stayed safe. 

“Sir, I don’t think you should be here. We can look for Mr. Gallagher in the safety of your home,” Austin tried to reason, praying he wasn’t about to have the shit beaten out of him. 

“Shut the fuck up, Austin. If you had done your fucking job we wouldn’t need to look for him in the first fucking place,” Mickey snarled, stepping up to Austin and even though he was shorter than the other man, he fit the part of the intimating boss. 

“Yes, sir,” 

“Here’s my phone. Make yourself useful. Call Charlotte and Margo, ask if he said anything before he left,” Mickey ordered, shoving his phone against Austin’s chest before storming up the stairs. 

“Hello, Mr. Governor,” Carl greeted, opening the door before Mickey even had a chance to knock. 

“Hi. Carl, right?” Mickey asked, smiling a bit when the boy looked proud to be recognized. 

“Yes, sir, that’s me.” He saluted Mickey, taking a step aside to let him in. 

“No need for all of that ‘sir’ bullshit, it’s just Mickey, please.” He offered his hand to the very excited boy dressed in what looked like maybe an ROTC uniform. Dave and Tony followed him inside and Mickey went around formally introducing himself to each of the Gallagher siblings, not even hesitating to take the beer Fiona offered him. 

“Thank you for helping us, Mickey, we really appreciate it,” Fiona offered, shaking his hand as Mickey took a swig of the beer. Getting to the last Gallagher sibling, Mickey doesn’t even offer his hand seeing the look on his face. 

“You know this is your fault right?” Lip clenched his jaw, staring at Mickey and contemplating if he wanted to risk getting his ass beaten by this man or the two large men behind him or maybe even the scary-looking dude that just walked in. 

“Lip, I’m gonna do everything I can to get your brother back. I care about him a lot—“

“I don’t care. Before you came into my brother's life, he never just disappeared unless he wasn’t taking his meds. So I don’t give a fuck how much you care about him, bring him back—“ 

“Lip,” Fiona cut him off, elbowing him in his side to shut him up. One of the big guys behind Mickey stepped forward but Mickey held his hand up to stop him. 

“Listen, Lip, I understand your frustration. I flew all the way back here because I was worried about Ian. I won’t let anything happen to him because he’s too important to me. So, believe me when I tell you I will bring him home.” Mickey didn’t raise his voice; he was calm and collected but it took everything not to lash out like Lip had. Austin chose that moment to step forward to Mickey’s side, handing the phone back to him. 

“Charlotte said John called her and told her he would be taking Ian and to tell Margo to excuse his absence tomorrow,” Austin explained, glancing over at Lip then back at his boss. 

“Fucking John. Okay, everyone can calm down. I know where Ian is. He’s safe, I’m gonna go get him and you’ll hear from him soon, I promise,” Mickey informed Ian’s family, thankful that the tension even from Lip had disappeared. 

“Here. This is his bag. There’s a smaller bag that has his medicine in it, I noticed he missed this morning's dose, so he needs to take it immediately,” Debbie said, holding the camouflage bag over the back of the couch. 

“Thanks for the beer, Fiona. And Debbie I’ll have Ian call you as soon as I’m with him, okay?” After getting a nod of acknowledgement, he turned and left the house with Dave and Tony. 

“If you ever talk to the Governor like that again, I’ll rip out your tongue and feed it to my dog,” Austin snapped at Lip before turning and following after Mickey. 

In the back seat of the SUV, Mickey opened the duffle, fishing out the smaller bag that had Ian’s meds. He pulled out a shirt that was clearly his and smiled. Ian definitely didn’t fit in his clothes so he wasn’t sure why he packed the shirt ,but as corny as it seemed, it gave him butterflies. He picked up another and recognized it as the shirt Ian was wearing the night they met. Mickey held the shirt to his nose and inhaled the scent, closing his eyes and just letting thoughts of Ian flood his mind. 

He really hoped Ian wasn’t too mad at him because all Mickey wanted to do was kiss him. 


	9. You Don’t Get It Do You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _” So, where are we going?” Ian asked, biting his lip._   
>  _“Hotel. Mickey wants to talk to you, he said and I quote ‘just go get him asshole and take Mandy. I have to clear some shit up,’” Tony laughed._

Ian watched the dark sky from the window. His head was throbbing because he made the mistake of fighting coming into the house and it landed him a very hard punch to the face. So, on top of the fading bruises on his face he already had, he’d have a nice fresh one to show off. 

He didn’t think he’d been kidnapped only because no one was technically mistreating him and there were no calls or threats to harm him or his family. Unless they found out about his relationship with Mickey—they could use him against Mickey or force him to end their relationship, if there was even still a relationship to end. He was being held in a huge house; it was quite beautiful but Ian had to admit he’d be a lot more scared if he was in some dingy warehouse in the middle of nowhere. He was told he couldn’t leave until John got here. Problem was, he didn’t know who the fuck John was. 

“Mr. Gallagher.” An older man in his forties walked in. Ian briefly saw two men outside the door but it closed before he could see anything else. 

“Have a seat please. I’m John. Sorry to have kept you waiting,” he explained and Ian cocked a brow at him. 

“I don’t know who you are, so I don’t fucking care,” Ian snapped, still standing by the window as he watched the man sit. 

“Feisty. I can see why he’s kept you around.” The man smirked, tapping the folder against his hand.  _ Of fucking course this is about Mickey,  _ Ian laughed to himself, drily rolling his eyes. 

“Since you claim to know so much about me, then you know I need my fucking meds,” Ian snarled, getting very annoyed at this whole situation. 

“Of course. Which is why I won’t take up too much more of your time. So about the governor,” John started opening the folder before closing it again. 

“Jesus. For people who claim to know so much, you all seem pretty fucking stupid if you think the governor is gonna care that I’m missing. So whatever, plans you have for me, you may as well just give up and go get someone worthwhile because it’s not me.” Ian crossed his arms. Saying that he didn’t mean anything to Mickey made him feel sick, but honestly, right now he believed it. John sat back in his chair, checking Ian over, more to size him up than anything else. 

“Hmm. I can see you believe that but you're wrong, Mr Gallagher. If Mickey didn’t care about you like you claim, then we wouldn’t be here,” John corrected. Ian hated that his heart fluttered at that—he forced himself to keep a neutral expression and finally took the seat across from John. 

“What exactly makes you think he cares?” Ian asked because he needed to know. Despite being upset, he really wanted to know whether Mickey genuinely cared for him. 

“This,” John answered simply, taking a packet from the folder and sliding it across the coffee table to Ian. 

“Are you kidding me? Not only did he dig up all that information about me, behind my back, but he also wants me to sign this fucking contract? How does any of that prove he cares?” Ian scoffed, tossing the packet back onto the table. 

“You don’t get it, do you? He’s been walking around with that contract for three weeks. He had the background information for a week and hadn’t read any of it. As soon as I found out about you and how serious he was, I gave him that contract but he refused to make you sign it. We’ve never had this problem before. In the past, he has  _ always  _ gotten them signed. I don’t know what’s so special about you, Ian, but you seem like a reasonable guy. You must understand the precaution that a man in Mickey’s position must take, so if you could just sign this, you could be on your way and it’ll be like the whole thing never happened.” John shrugged, pulling a pen from his shirt pocket and placing it on top of the documents. 

“It was you that did all of the research on me and my family?” Ian questioned, staring at the document. 

“Yes. I gave it to him a week ago, figured he needed some convincing,” John shrugged again. 

“By showing him how fucked up I am?” Ian asked, biting his lip so hard it hurt. 

“Your words not mine. But he doesn’t even know half of what I found because he wouldn’t read past the first page,” John answered and for some reason, that made Ian feel better, like Mickey hadn’t completely betrayed him. “Come on, just sign. For Mickey’s sake.” 

Ian twisted the pen in his hand. This just didn’t feel right. If Mickey didn’t want him to sign, there had to be a reason for it. He couldn’t sign it, not without talking to Mickey. He furrowed his brow and read over the first page again. 

_ (i) The aforementioned cannot disclose the relationship. _

_ (ii) Will not contact the governor unless the senator contacts you first. _

_ (iii) Will not meet the governor unless sermoned. _

_ (iv) Will not take photos with or film the governor. _

_ (v) Will not fall in love with the governor or get attached in any way or manner. _

_ (vi) In case of termination of the relationship, you must lose all contact with the governor. _

_ Failure to adhere to any of the aforementioned terms will be a breach of contract and you shall be prosecuted. _

_ Please sign below to confirm you agree to all of the above terms. _

“Unbelievable,” Ian muttered, tossing the pen down and standing up. 

“Ian, please, don’t make this any harder,” John sighed. 

“I need a minute,” Ian snapped, standing up and walking back to the window. 

“You have twenty minutes. You won’t have a choice after that.” John stood up and walked out of one of the side doors. 

“Fucking hell,” Ian breathed. He didn’t want to sign the fucking document. 

He couldn’t agree to those terms, couldn’t agree to not fall in love when he was positive that that train had left the station a long time ago. Fuck, he was already breaching the contract and he hadn’t even signed it yet. He was so happy before this damn contract. Mickey made him so happy. They spent time together, joking, laughing, having fucking amazing sex and falling in love. Hell, even his family knew about them. 

He was 23 years old. He’d finally found a job that he really fucking liked. hHe wanted to find someone, fall in love and start a family, and he really thought Mickey could be that person, but now? With John on his ass, literally about to force him to sign this contract and Mickey already having a family of his own, what could he do? 

“Fuck,” Ian whispered, tears filling his green eyes. Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn’t he just be happy? 

Ian stood there by the window, waiting for John to get back. He had to force the years out of his eyes so he wouldn’t break down. When the other man does join him again John takes the same seat as before and makes a gesture to ask Ian if he made up his mind. 

“I’m not signing this, John. I’m not signing it because I don’t need to,” Ian told him. He would never do anything to cause Mickey to lose his office or do anything to ruin his reputation. 

“Really, so you’re ending your relationship with the governor?” John asked skeptically, looking Ian over. Ian nodded, not trusting himself to speak over the lump in his throat because he couldn’t believe the best month of his life is over just like that. 

“Well, then, you’ll definitely be the first,” John announced, starting to say something when there was a commotion outside of the door. 

“John, open this fucking door before I have Joey bust it down!” a female voice Ian didn’t recognize shouted. 

“Shit,” John hissed, standing up from his seat. Not even a second later, the door was banging open and a small woman with dark hair stomped in. 

“Joey, Mandy, what are you doing here?” John asked, suddenly sounding nervous, making Ian smile. 

“John, how much of a fucking idiot are you? How many chances do you think my brother is gonna give you before he finally lets me beat the fuck out of you?” the big guy, Joey, asked and Ian couldn’t help but notice how similar he looked to Dave. He’d said he was Mickey’s brother—did that mean Dave probably was to? Was Mandy his sister? 

“I did this for your brother,” John scoffed. So they were related to Mickey. Mandy returned the scoff and opened her bag, pulling out Ian’s medicine bag. 

“Mickey said you need to take these, so as soon as you take them, we can leave,” she offered gently and Ian appreciated her trying to be private, even though everyone here probably knew. She offered him a bottle of water from her purse and he gave her a grateful smile before walking over to the window just so he wasn’t taking the meds in front of everyone. 

“Never let John intimidate you. He’s a coward and doesn’t like to take orders. Mickey specifically told him to stay away from you, I don’t even know why he hasn’t been fired yet,” Mandy said as she walked out of the house with him, pushing him forward a bit when they heard John cry out in pain. 

“You know he’s the reason Mickey’s still in the fucking closet?” Mandy asked as she slid into the back seat with Ian. 

“He advised him not to come out?” Ian asked with a frown. 

“Yeah. Spilled some bullshit about how it was Mickey’s first time running and it wouldn’t look good if he was gay,” Mandy explained. That only made Ian’s frown deepen. 

“Man, I’ll kill that son of a bitch one day,” Joey laughed as he got in the car, barely taking a second before they were pulling out and driving off. 

“So, where are we going?” Ian asked, biting his lip. 

“Hotel. Mickey wants to talk to you. He said, and I quote, ‘just go get him, asshole, and take Mandy. I have to clear some shit up.’” Joey laughed;despite the nausea Ian felt from the anxiety of seeing Mickey again, he smiled. 

“We’re just gonna drop you off, he said he wouldn’t be long. He wanted to come get you himself but he was getting calls left and right because he was supposed to be at a meeting tonight.” Ian bit his lip remembering that Mickey was indeed supposed to still be out of state for the next few days. 

Ian didn’t know what else to say so he just turned to look out the window of the vehicle. 


	10. So You Don’t Love Your Wife?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I wanna make love to you, Mikhailo,”_  
>  _“Please, that’s all I want, Ian. Make love to me, make me yours,”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations for this Chapter:
> 
>  _Я тебе люблю. Набагато більше, ніж я повинен._ \- I love you. So much more than I should.

Mickey sped off to the hotel after Mandy told him they dropped Ian off safely and wouldn’t leave the hotel until he got there. He was happy to know Ian was safe., but Mandy also told him that Ian was confused about a lot of things and still seemed really hurt. 

When he got to the hotel room, he used his key to get in, his heart pounding when he spotted Ian across the room, looking out the large windows at the illuminated city buildings. He turned around when he heard the door open. 

“Hey,” Ian breathed, his own heart fluttering when his gaze met those Mickey’s He’d never seen Mickey dressed so casually and it was honestly really fucking attractive. 

“You okay?” Mickey asked, walking halfway across the room and stopping beside the couch. He noticed the fresh bruise on Ian’s cheekbone but didn’t react. Ian only nodded silently. 

“Debbie,” Mickey offered, lifting up the duffle bag and setting it on the coffee table next to the bag that held Ian’s meds. 

“Thanks,” Ian muttered, turning away and looking down, unable to bring himself to look back up. 

“I wish you’d look at me, Ian.” Mickey’s voice was full of emotion and Ian thought he sounded like he might start crying. He turned back to Mickey but still didn’t look at him. Mickey sighed and figured he may as well start explaining now. 

“Look, about that day you left here. I was going to tell you it wasn’t me that looked you up—”

“I know. It was John,” Ian cut him off with a soft sniffle. 

“Then why are you still upset? Why won’t you look at me?” he asked desperately, hugging himself and biting his lip so hard he tasted blood. There was so much pain in his voice Ian had to look at him; he never wanted to hear Mickey like that. 

“Because you still had the papers, Mickey. Even though it wasn’t you, you still had them. All of that information, personal information, about my life. And that fucking contract. You could have told me even if you didn’t want me to sign it. You told me you trusted me and I trusted you, so you should have told me.” It was Ian’s voice that shook with emotion this time and it hurt Mickey knowing he’d caused Ian pain. 

“I don’t have an explanation, Ian. I never planned on giving you that contract because what we have is more that a fucking piece of paper. I read the first page of that shit he gave me and I just couldn’t bring myself to read anything else. You trusted me and I knew if I read anything, you wouldn’t be able to trust me again,” Mickey explained He sounded so sincere that Ian really did believe him but that was only half of why he was upset. 

“Yeah? What about your marriage? Your kid?” Ian asked, walking down the few steps so that he was only a couple feet away from Mickey. 

Mickey froze. It wasn’t technically a secret, and maybe he should have brought it up, but he didn’t think it mattered. Obviously, Ian disagreed but only because he didn’t know the whole story. 

“Ian, you let me explain, because I can,” Mickey started,swallowing thickly and watching Ian nod hesitantly. 

“My father was the biggest homophobic asshole to ever walk the face of this earth. He caught me with a guy and pistol-whipped me so bad I was laid up in bed for a week with broken ribs. I knew I couldn’t let him know that I was still sleeping around with guys or maybe next time he would kill me. And I’m not talking about ground me and beat on me again, I mean kill me and burn my fucking body.” Ian shifted because honestly, he had no idea that was how Mickey grew up. 

“So my senior year of high school, I was ready to drop out, before I got into politics. I, uh, befriended this Russian exchange student. Her dad sold her into this prostitution ring but she managed to get away and get into school. I didn’t love her, Svetlana, I didn’t love her like that just like she didn’t love me, but we needed each other. I was gay and it was my luck that she turned out to be lesbian. She was only sleeping with guys for the money. We were also sleeping together on and off and she got pregnant and paid for the test to prove it was really mine. My dad was fucking ecstatic, planned a fucking wedding and everything. And here we are now,” Mickey watched Ian take a few more steps forward and all he wanted to was pull him into a kiss. 

“So you don’t love your wife?” Ian asked skeptically. 

“No, I love her and I would do anything for her and Yev. But I’m not in love with her,” Mickey answered honestly. Ian let out a shuddering breath; he couldn’t believe how relieved he felt, like a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest. He felt happy, so happy that he just started laughing as he walked towardMickey and closed the distance between them. 

“Okay, chuckles, wanna tell me what’s so funny?” Mickey asked, cracking a smile because it was the first time he’d seen Ian’s smile in almost a week. 

“I just haven’t felt this relieved since they told me Liam wasn’t gonna die from an overdose,” Ian answered, looking down at Mickey who raised a brow at him. 

“Story for another time.” Ian shook his head, biting his lip when Mickey reached out to rest a hand on his waist. 

“I would never do that to you, Ian. I would never put you in that position. I care about you too much, I wanted to tell you about them but I just didn’t know when the right time was. I’d never had to deal with that part before,” Mickey confessed, thankful when Ian nodded and moved closer, letting Mickey touch his body. 

“How was your trip?” Ian asked, casually changing the subject. 

“It was horrible. God, I missed you so much. I had the worst time knowing we parted on such bad terms, and then Austin couldn’t find you and your family was freaking out—” 

“I missed you too, Mick. I missed you every fucking minute and then all I could think about is that I was sharing you—” 

“You’re not sharing anything.” Mickey shook his head, reaching up to caress Ian’s cheek. 

Ian leaned into his touch, bringing his hands up to rest on Mickey's chest. Ian’s breath caught in his throat when Mickey thumbed at his bottom lip and pressed their bodies together. Ian slid a hand around to rest between Mickey’s shoulder blades, licking the thumb on his lip, taking it into his mouth and sucking on it gently. 

“Shit,” Mickey moaned, pulling his thumb from Ian’s mouth and tugged him into a hard kiss. The kiss was hot and desperate, like if they stopped the other would disappear and they would be all alone again. 

“Need you, please,” Mickey whimpered against Ian’s lips. 

“Fuck, come here,” Ian groaned, bending down to pick Mickey up by the back of his thighs. 

Mickey kissed along Ian’s neck as he walked them to the bedroom, sucking a dark mark just under his jawbone. Ian was his and he wanted everyone to know he was taken. He dropped Mickey onto his feet gently, both undressing quickly even though Ian had different plans tonight. He wasn’t gonna just fuck Mickey. He wanted to make love to him. Hold him and caress him, kiss his body, swallow down all the sweet little noises he knew he was gonna make and make sure Mickey knew how much Ian felt for him. He reached into the same bedside drawer from a few nights ago and tossed the lube onto the bed. 

Ian picked Mickey up again now that they were both naked, holding him close, kneeling on the bed and laying him gently on the fluffy white pillows. Ian settled between Mickey’s thighs, kissing him slow and sliding his tongue against Mickey’s. His hands caressedMickey’s face and slid down his body to rub his thighs, then journeyed back up to wrap around his waist. 

“I wanna make love to you, Mikhailo,” Ian breathed. Mickey moaned. It was the first time he’d actually heard Ian say his full name and he fucking loved it. It sounded beautiful coming from Ian. 

“Please, that’s all I want, Ian. Make love to me, make me yours,” Mickey begged, pulling Ian into a slow tongue-filled kiss. They swallowed down each other’s deep groans as their slick warm tongues slid together. 

Ian pulled back just enough to reach for the lube, pecking Mickey’s lips when he whimpered at the loss. He popped the cap of the lube, quickly spreading it over his cock. He reached for the bottle again but Mickey grabbed his wrist to stop him. 

“Don’t wanna prep, just wanna feel you,” Mickey blinked up at him, hands coming up to rest on muscular shoulders. 

Ian looked down at him for a second, one hand bracing on Mickey’s hip, the other grabbing his cock and pushing into him slowly. He gasped when Mickey’s heat finally engulfed him, so much tighter with no prep beforehand. Scanning his face for any discomfort before pushing the rest of the way in, they both moaned when Ian bottomed out, dropping his head down to press a kiss to Mickey’s shoulder. 

“Fuck, I missed you,” Ian murmured as he kissed Mickey’s shoulder again, trailing his lips up his neck and across his jaw. 

“‘S only been two days,” Mickey chuckled softly, lifting his head up to kiss Ian’s shoulder in return, “But I missed you, too. Now, make love to me.” 

Ian tucked his face tight against Mickey’s neck, wrapping him up in his arms before slowly pulling out and roughly pushing back in all at once. Mickey’s moan was loud against Ian’s ear but he loved it. The sound vibrated against his skin and sent goosebumps all over his body. 

“Mickey,” Ian moaned, pushing up in his elbows to look down at Mickey’s face, twisted up in pleasure but opening his eyes to meet Ian’s, humming in acknowledgement. 

“I love you,” Ian breathed, slowing his hips to a stop as he waited for Mickey’s response. 

“You don’t have to say it back, okay? I understand. It’s early as shit, but fuck, I do love you. I just want you to know that.” Ian pressed his lips to Mickey’s again, not giving the man a chance to respond, relishing the moan Mickey let out when Ian started thrusting into him again. 

Mickey squeezed his tear-filled eyes shut. Fuck—he loved Ian too. He knew it was too early, knew it was a risk falling for Ian so hard and so fast, but he didn’t care and it was twisting his head painfully that he hadn’t said it back. He could say it now, tell Ian he loved him to,o but he’d never said those words to anyone. Not to someone like Ian—he’d never felt like this for anyone. 

A tear fell down his cheek as they toppled over the edge together, reaching their climax at the same moment. Ian held him tight and Mickey grasped his shoulders. Heavy panting breaths filled the room, a light sheen of sweat on their skin and lips pressing sweet kisses to each other's skin. Mickey’s hand found its way to the back of Ian’s head, holding him there in a soothing caress as he brushed his lips over Ian’s ear. 

_ “я тебе люблю. Так багато. більше, ніж я повинен.”  _ Ian shuddered even though he had no clue what Mickey had just whispered in his ear, but based on the wetness he felt between their cheeks and the way Mickey was clinging to him, he had a good idea. 

So, instead of asking he just pulled back, pressing their lips together in a deep, emotional kiss. 


	11. Mickey?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”I don’t need a babysitter, Mickey,”_   
>  _“I’m not trying to be a babysitter, I’m just trying to take care of you,”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter was partially inspired by LowLife_07’s comment: THIS AWESOME!!! i cant wait to see where they go from here!! Would love to see mickey take care of ian during an episode!! GREAT WORK!!**

A month had passed since Ian and Mickey made up. They made an agreement: no more secrets on either of their parts, even, though Mickey hadn’t planned on keeping any more secrets from Ian once he finally told him the truth, but still... The only secret was their relationship and as of right now, they both agreed it was better to be kept quiet for the time being. 

However, Mickey hadn’t heard from Ian all weekend. Friday evening they were supposed to meet for dinner but Ian texted saying he wasn’t feeling good. Mickey understood—of course he understood, but then two days went by without a single word from Ian. He was getting pissed, antsy and worried; for about a week and a half, Ian had been acting out of character, way more energetic than normal. That worry only increased when he got to work to find Margo and Charlotte bitching about how Ian wasn’t here yet. 

“Austin, my office, now,” Mickey snapped, not waiting for a response and not greeting anyone as he walked through. 

Once in his office, he checked his phone—still no calls or texts from Ian. It wasn’t even showing that his messages had been read. Distress settled in the pit of his stomach. In the time he had known Ian, he hadn’t even so much as been late to work, let alone missed a day. Ian was also a very attentive lover. He always returned calls, he always texted back, he always called to tell Mickey goodnight if he wasn’t sleeping over. And now that it had been two days without any of that, he was feeling sick and a part of him was scared that maybe Ian was breaking up with him— _ No, don’t even go there, Milkovich.  _ Mickey took a deep breath, turning when his office door opened. 

“Sir?” 

“Austin, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. I need you to go to Ian’s apartment and see if he’s there. I haven’t heard from him since Friday evening and I’m freaking the fuck out,” Mickey rushed, his chest heaving from the force of his words. 

“If he’s not there, do you want me to check at the family house?” Austin asked, not even daring to ask if Mickey was okay. 

“Uh, yes. Call me the second you get to his apartment to let me know if he’s there,” Mickey ordered before plopping down in his chair, watching Austin rush out of the office. 

Everything was suddenly too much. Mickey ripped his jacket and tie off, unbuttoned the top of his shirt, ran shaky hands through his hair, thankful it was a conference call. He bent forward to rest his elbows on his knees, doing his best to get his breathing under control.  _ He’s gonna be fine. Ian’s gonna be fine.  _

***

Austin knocked on the door and listened for a moment. There were no sounds coming from inside: no talking, no tv, no music, no shower running, nothing. Furrowing his brow, he looked around, making sure there were no prying eyes before grabbing the spare key Mickey told him about. Austin thought his boss was being paranoid at first; Ian’s car was in the garage, so him not picking up the phone or answering the door struck even him as odd. 

He walked inside the apartment; the curtains were open so it was bright inside the light illuminating the messy state of the place. It looked like someone started organizing the house and then just left it how it was.  _ Weird.  _

“Ian? Man, you home?” Austin called out but was met with silence. 

“Hey, Mickey’s worried about you.” Still nothing. He walked over and checked the two rooms off to the side—empty. Then made his way to the door on the other side that was slightly cracked and pushed it open.  _ Shit,  _ Austin thought as a shiver ran down his spine. The room was fucking freezing cold. 

“Ian?” Austin called to the motionless lump on the bed as he made his way over to slide the window shut.  _ Who just leaves a window open in freezing cold Chicago?  _

“Ian? Man, are you okay?” Austin asked, reaching out to shake Ian’s shoulder. 

“Leave me alone,” Ian mumbled. Austin was confused as hell but hey, at least Ian wasn’t dead. 

“You want me to call Mickey?” he asked, crouching down next to the bed. 

“Mickey?” Ian asked and Austin nodded, eyes widening when Ian’s eyes welled up with tears suddenly and they started falling. Ian made no other sound. 

“I’m gonna call him. I’m gonna go call Mickey for you.” Austin patted his shoulder before standing up and making his way out of the room. He pulled his phone out, walking around the clutter and dialing Mickey’s number. 

_ “Is he there? Is he okay?”  _ Mickey rushed, not even saying hello. 

“Hello to you too boss. I’m doing great—“ 

_ “Austin!”  _ Mickey snapped. He really didn’t feel like playing games right now. 

“Sorry. Uh, yeah he’s here. Quick question though, and please don’t rip my head off for asking, but like, does he do drugs?” Austin asked sheepishly, looking around the apartment. He could hear Mickey take a deep breath. 

_ “Why?”  _ was all he asked and that didn’t give Austin much hope for the answer. 

“Well, his apartment is cluttered like he was trying to reorganize the place and just decided to stop. He bundled up under a cover in bed and when I got here, his window was wide open and the room was freezing. He told me to leave him alone and when I asked if he wanted me to call you he just started crying but didn’t move or say anything else. He’s kinda freaking me out, man,” Austin explained, waiting for Mickey to say something. 

_ “Austin, Ian has bipolar disorder-“  _

“Oh, shit—“ 

_ “Maybe his meds stopped working or he stopped taking them but I’m on my way. Don’t fucking leave him alone until I get there,”  _ Mickey ordered, already heading out of his office. 

“Do you want me to call one of the siblings?” Austin asked, biting his lip. 

_ “No. Not right now. Let me get there and talk to him and I’ll call them if I think I need to,”  _ Mickey answered before hanging up and rushing to the elevator. 

Austin sighed. He knew what bipolar was but he had never known anyone with it. From the outside looking in, he would have just assumed Ian was on crack or something. He was glad he wasn’t but honestly, this didn’t look too much better. He walked back to the room and noticed tears were still slowly falling from Ian’s eyes. 

“Hey, man, Mickey’s on his way,” Austin offered crouching back down. 

“Mickey’s coming? He didn’t leave me?” Ian asked, his voice shook and that made Austin’s brow furrowed. 

“What? No, of course not. Mickey wouldn’t ever leave you,” Austin assured him, patting his shoulder again before moving to the window seat in the living room where he could sit comfortably and keep an eye on Ian. 

He spotted an ashtray on the windowsill and cracked the pane open before pulling out a cigarette. By the time he was done with his second one, Mickey was barreling through the door, plastic bags in hand. 

“Jesus,” he breathed, looking around and Austin made his way over to grab the bags. 

“Yeah, that was my reaction too. He’s in that room over there.” Austin pointed to the room in the far corner and Mickey furrowed his brow. 

“That’s weird. That’s the guest room, he never sleeps there,” Mickey answered, more to himself than anything, but Austin hummed in response. 

“He, um, he said something about thinking you left him,” Austin admitted almost awkwardly, not knowing how his boss would feel about that. Mickey frowned but didn’t comment on it. 

“Look, man, thank you for coming., I really appreciate it. You can take the rest of today and tomorrow off, paid. I’m gonna stay here with him. I’ll let you know how things go tomorrow evening,” Mickey said, reaching out to shake Austin’s hand and pull him into a one-armed hug. 

“Alright, boss, text me if you need anything,” Austin nodded as they pulled away, giving Mickey a two-finger salute before moving to the front door. Once he was gone, Mickey locked up the front door and made his way over to the room. 

Ian was indeed laying there, wrapped up in a thick blanket with only his head peeking out the slightest bit. Mickey’s stomach dropped seeing him like this. Ian had kind of explained how bad his lows can be but actually seeing it hurt Mickey’s heart in a way he’d never felt before. His feet were moving him forward and he crouched down in front of Ian. 

“Ian? Hey, you awake?” Mickey asked softly, reaching out to pet Ian’s hair. “Baby?” Mickey tried again, smiling gently when beautiful red-rimmed green eyes fluttered open. 

“Mickey?” It sounded like a question and the look in Ian’s eyes could have killed Mickey. 

“I’m here, I didn’t leave. I would never leave you,” Mickey promised, leaning in to kiss Ian’s forehead, calming Ian’s silent worries. 

Those green eyes filled with tears and soon they spilled over, a soft sob escaping his lips. Mickey didn’t say anything. What could he say? Instead, he peeled the cover out of Ian’s iron grip and slid into the bed next to him, taking the shaking body into his arms and kissing his head, his wet cheek and then his pouty lips before tucking Ian’s head against his chest and just letting him cry. 

“I’m here. I’m right here, Ian. I’m not going anywhere,” Mickey breathed, keeping Ian tucked closely to his chest until he fell back asleep. 

Mickey stayed there holding him for a while. He watched that beautiful face twist and turn into a scowl many times before relaxing into a softer expression as he slept. Mickey pressed a kiss to his head before walking out of the bedroom. Heading for the kitchen, Mickey pulled out the soup he’d picked up from Ian’s favorite place, found a pot and started heating it up. 

While the soup was going, Mickey started clearing the clutter and putting things back where he thought they went. He’d been to Ian’s many times so he was going based on memory and assumed Ian would fix things once he was feeling better. Mickey felt a pang of hurt when he remembered Ian telling him this is how he got when he was manic, meaning all of that out-of-character energetic stuff was him going through a manic phase and Mickey hadn’t noticed and now he felt like complete shit. 

Half of the clutter was put away now and Mickey made his way back to the kitchen and poured the soup in a bowl, grabbed some crackers, a bottle of water and headed back to the room. Ian’s eyes were open again and staring out the window at the dimming sky outside. 

“Hey, sleepyhead, I got you some soup,” Mickey smiled, setting the warm bowl on the nightstand and sitting next to Ian on the bed. 

“Not hungry,” Ian grumbled but it wasn’t very convincing. 

“Are you not hungry or do you not have the energy to feed yourself?” Mickey asked softly, not missing the way Ian clenched his jaw and flinched. 

“I don’t need a babysitter, Mickey,” Ian snapped but there was no real heat behind it; he just sounded tired. 

“I’m not trying to be a babysitter, I’m just trying to take care of you,” Mickey offered, resting a hand on Ian’s cover-clad hip. Ian didn’t answer so Mickey tried again. 

“Ian, don’t push me away, please. I just want to help you. I wanna take care of you. You’re important to me and I just want to make you feel better. Trust me, I know your more than capable of taking care of yourself, but until you get the energy back to do that, just, please, let me do it for you.” Mickey let the soft pleading tone fill his voice, hoping it would get through to Ian and he let out a silent, relieved breath when Ian slowly pushed himself into a seated position. 

“I’m really not that hungry, but I haven’t eaten in a couple days,” Ian confessed, sitting up and Mickey took note of his shirtless form. 

“Okay, we’ll go slow then. Couple bites of soup and a few crackers. If you haven’t eaten, you’ll get sick if you try for too much anyway.” Ian was surprised that he didn’t sound patronizing or condescending; he just sounded like Mickey, like he would if they were having a conversation any other day. 

He nodded at Mickey and as much as it made him feel like an invalid, he opened his mouth and let Mickey feed him a few bites of soup, feeling just the very slightest bit of happiness when he realized Mickey remembered what his favorite soup was. He took the crackers when offered and let Mickey hold the water bottle to his mouth when he needed to drink. It was nice. It didn’t feel like he was a burden on Mickey, nor did he feel like he was being treated like Monica. This felt like just Ian and Mickey but with extra steps.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Mickey asked as he offered another bite of soup. 

“Just how nice it is for someone who’s not one of my siblings to help me like this. When they come around, it just makes me feel like a burden, like I’m another Monica and I’m not.” Ian shook his head and his voice was shaking dangerously as he spoke. 

“No, because you’re not your mother and you’re not your bipolar. You’re just Ian.” Mickey set the bowl down and moved closer to his lover, reaching out to caress his cheek gently. Ian nuzzled into the warm palm and brought a hand up to grasp Mickey’s wrist gently. 

“My meds went out of balance. I was supposed to go to the clinic Saturday but I—well, I couldn’t get out of bed when I woke up. When I get like this, it’s hard, ya know? When I was manic, I felt fine. I always feel fine but I knew something was off. Sometime during the night, it just switched and then it was too late. I thought about calling you, asking you to come over but first, I don’t know where my phone is and second, I couldn’t have gotten out of bed even if I tried,” Ian explained and Mickey felt a warmth in his chest at Ian being so open with him. 

“Why are you in here and not our room?” Neither of them reacted to Mickey calling it ‘their’ room, but it did send a small flutter through his chest. 

“When I texted you Friday night and said I wasn’t feeling good, I could feel myself getting ready to like, crash. I was just so tired and I just happened to be in this room.” Ian shrugged and Mickey nodded in understanding. 

“You feel up to a shower? Or maybe a bath? Then we can get you settled in our bed?” Mickey asked after a moment of just silently caressing Ian’s face. 

“Don’t know if I can do either of those things on my own,” Ian confessed with a small frown. 

“That’s okay, I can help. Not like we haven’t showered or bathed together before.” Mickey shrugged again and Ian could have almost laughed at how casual he was being when the situation was anything but casual. 

“Okay, fine, but you’re gonna have to practically carry me since I haven’t moved in three days,” Ian said as though that would be a deal-breaker for Mickey. 

“Yeah, okay, tough guy. I think I can more than handle carrying your ginger ass to the bathroom,” Mickey snorted, standing up and pulling the covers back. 

“Mickey, I wasn’t being serious—“ 

“Man, just stop. I told you I’m here to help you, and that includes carrying you if need be. After the bath and getting you dressed, you're gonna get back into bed and tomorrow we’ll walk around your apartment and get you sturdy on your feet. Now come on, wrap your lanky-ass arm around my shoulders.” This time it was Ian’s turn to snort out a laugh as he slid over to the edge of the bed and wrapped his arm around Mickey’s shoulders, turning his legs to hang off the bed. 

Ian was definitely wobbly on his feet but with one of Mickey’s arms around his lower back and a hand in the middle of his chest, it was enough to keep him steady on the way to the bathroom. Without any comment, Mickey helped Ian undress and get into the bath and let the warm water start heating him up. 

“Mick?” Ian called out worriedly when he turned to leave. 

“Shh, I’m coming back,” he promised and sure enough, just a couple of anxiety-filled minutes later, Mickey was back with two glowing candles, sitting them on the counter, turning out the light and undressing before getting in the tub. 

He stretched his legs out on either side of Ian and prompted him to lay back against his chest where he held him tightly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p.s. I don’t know much about bipolar disorder but I do have an old friend who was diagnosed a few years ago who helped me out with some questions I had so her experiences plus what we see from Ian/Monica in the show is what I used to write chapters 11, 12, 13 & 14.


	12. Can We Just Cuddle?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”That needy, huh? It’s only been three days,”_  
>  _“Three days is a long time when your boyfriend has a magic monster cock,” Mickey retorted and it was Ian’s turn to snort out a laugh before pressing a kiss to Mickey’s lips._

The bathroom was bathed in a warm glow from the candles on the counter. The water had been turned off long ago and the bath was comfortably warm. Ian had been dozing off in Mickey’s arms for about fifteen minutes now. His forehead was tucked against Mickey’s neck and his fingers were intertwined with Mickey across his chest. He felt safe and comfortable and warm. 

“Hey, you awake?” Mickey mumbled, pressing his cheek to Ian’s head. 

“Mmhmm,” Ian nodded, squeezing Mickey’s fingers as an answer. 

“So, you said your meds stopped working and you needed to go to the doctor but missed your appointment. You need me to call to set you up something else?” He brought his fingers up to run through Ian’s hair. 

“Um, if you don’t mind, yeah. Dr. Porter’s number is on the refrigerator,” Ian answered. Mickey was glad he wasn’t being argued with and that Ian just willingly gave him the information. 

“Okay, I’ll call in the morning, see when they can get you in.” Mickey nodded and ran his thumb along Ian’s knuckles. 

“Today’s Monday right?” Ian asked, copying Mickey's action on the opposite hand. 

“Yeah it is,” 

“You had a meeting today, how’d it go?” Ian asked. He really expected Mickey to tell him not to worry about it but was pleasantly surprised when he answered. 

“It went okay, actually. I was worried about you though, so I ended up cutting it short. But everything important that needed to be discussed was discussed. As soon as I got that call from Austin that you were here, I rushed over had Charlotte push everything for this week back,” Mickey answered with a small smile. Ian shifted to where he could look at Mickey and frowned. 

“You didn’t have to do that, I mean you still need to work—” 

“Hey, nothing is more important to me than you and my son. If it’s an emergency, Charlotte will contact me and we’ll deal with it then, but meetings can be pushed back. I wanna be here, with you,” Mickey assured him, his hands moving to slide down Ian’s arms. Ian took it upon himself to turn around and lay between Mickey’s legs so they were face to face. 

“No one has ever cared for me the way you do.” Ian’s voice was quiet and he could swear he was gonna start crying again when he felt a strong hand tilting his chin up. 

“ _ я тебе люблю _ ” Mickey breathed. Ian recognized that phrase—Mickey had said it to him once before. 

“Do I get the pleasure of finally knowing what that means?” Ian asked, leaning further into Mickey’s touch. 

“It means ‘I love you’. I fucking love you, Ian,” Mickey confessed with so much conviction, it made Ian shiver. 

“I love you, Mickey,” Ian smiled softly, moving to that he was on his knees, hovering slightly over Mickey and pressing a soft kiss to his neck. 

This was such a different feeling. In his lows, Ian never, literally never, had any feelings. Everything was pushed to the side and he just felt numb. Sometimes he would cry or feel overwhelmed, sometimes even angry, but this? This was different. A good different, and it wasn’t something he wanted to lose. He wanted to show his thanks to Mickey: for being here, for taking care of him, for caring. So he reached out and wrapped a hand around Mickey’s cock. 

“Whoa, Ian, you don’t have to—” 

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Wanna make you feel good for helping me feel good,” Ian breathed, his hand gliding over Mickey’s cock under the warm water. 

“You could just say thank you,” Mickey shuddered, but there was no denying the fact that his dick was hardening under Ian touch. 

“You want me to stop?” Ian asked, knowing good and well that Mickey didn’t want him to stop. 

“Feel like I’m taking advantage of you or something,” Mickey answered, fighting to keep his eyes open, meeting green eyes when a wet hand came up to caress his cheek. 

“‘S not taking advantage if I want to do it. If I was manic, that would be a little different considering hypersexuality is a huge part of being manic and why I fucked you three times during our lunch break on Friday.” Ian shrugged like it was just so casual. 

“Yeah? And what about now? You could hardly even get out of bed just now.” Mickey tried to keep it together but he was very slowly losing his grip and about to fall into the endless pit that was Ian Gallagher. 

“That may be true, but I’m going through a little energy boost right now, and I would like to put it to good use.” Mickey moaned when Ian’s strokes turned from soft and lazy to quick and firm, his head dropping back against the tub and his eyes rolling closed. 

Ian leaned forward to press his lips against Mickey’s neck before pushing up onto his knees and bringing Mickey’s thighs to rest against his own. Pressing his forehead to Mickey’s shoulder, he clenched his jaw when he realized his own cock wasn’t getting hard. He wasn’t surprised but he was definitely disappointed. Oh, well. Mickey was going above and beyond, making all this about Ian, and who knew when he was gonna be in the mood again? So he decided to make this moment about Mickey. 

“You're so beautiful, Mick. I don’t know what I did to have someone like you come into my life and care about me the way you do. I’m so lucky to have you, so lucky that you love me.” Ian continued kissing his neck, listening to those sweet little gasps escaping Mickey’s lips every now and then when Ian would change his pace or tighten his grip. 

Ian grinned to himself when he got an idea and slid his free hand down into the water between their bodies. His middle finger pressing into the skin behind Mickey’s balls, circling slowly on the soft skin there. 

“Fuck, Ian,” Mickey’s body jerked at the intensity of the touch, but a moan escaped immediately after because fuck that feels good. 

“Want me to finger you?” Ian asked against his ear, pulling another long, drawn -out moan out of Mickey. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ian chuckled, kissing Mickey’s slack mouth as he pushed in the tip of his middle finger inside. 

“I’m not gonna last Ian,” Mickey panted, shaking his head. 

“That needy, huh? It’s only been three days.” Ian smirked, but then he remembered that in the time they had known each other, they’d had sex almost every day, at least once a day; and if they weren’t having sex, they were sexting or jerking off with one another. So he really wasn’t surprised that three days had Mickey a moaning mess under him. 

“Three days is a long time when your boyfriend has a magic monster cock,” Mickey retorted and it was Ian’s turn to snort out a laugh before pressing a kiss to Mickey’s lips. 

Ian started working his hands again, working two fingers inside of Mickey now, stroking his cock and nipping at his jaw. Mickey, on the other hand, sounded absolutely wrecked. He was moaning and whining, arching into Ian’s touch. He cried out Ian’s name and clawed at his biceps as he begged Ian to let him cum. 

“Oh, god, Ian,” Mickey cried when Ian’s fingers found his prostate and started rubbing tight circles on it. A sob tore through his throat and Ian thought he felt his dick twitch at that—he made sure to store that sound away for later, though he planned on doing everything he could to hear that sound from Mickey more often. 

“Listen.” Ian leaned into Mickey’s ear, his hands not giving up their relentless pace but his voice calm and strong. “I mean it when I say I don’t know what I did to deserve you. You’re so good. I’m so in love with you Mickey. Now, cum for me.”

“Ian!” Mickey cried again, his body trembling as his orgasm washed over his body, barely able to return the kiss that Ian pressed to his mouth. 

“So beautiful,” Ian whispered against his lips, hands working much slower to gently work Mickey down from his orgasm. 

“Jesus, Ian,” Mickey spoke in a breathy chuckle, his hands sliding along Ian's arms as he pulled his hands away to rest on Mickey’s hips. They stayed there in silence for a few minutes before Mickey shifted around and pressed a kiss to Ian’s jaw. 

“Do you need me to—“

“No, I, uh—I won’t be able to get it up right now. Don’t know how often or if I’ll be able to get it up at all once they adjust my meds.” Mickey could hear the underlying resentment in his voice and a hint of embarrassment, and it made his heart hurt. 

“You know that’s not gonna bug me right? I get that it’s probably frustrating for you, but it’s not like a deal-breaker or anything,” Mickey reassured him, his hands still caressing Ian’s skin. 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that when weeks go by and I can’t get it up for shit.“ 

“Ian, stop! If you could never have sex again, I wouldn’t fucking care. You hear me? This is—what we have is more than just sex. I mean for me, it is. And I really hope it’s more than sex for you and that you don’t think I’m that fucking shallow.” Ian’s head dropped at the hurt that registered not only in Mickey’s voice but also in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I—Mickey, of course I know what we have is more than sex. Of course I know it’s not just sex for you just like it’s not just sex for me. It’s just, a lot of self-loathing builds up in me when I’m at a low point, I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” Ian brought his hand up from the cooling water to caress Mickey’s face. 

“I’m not mad at you or anything, Ian. Just know that I’m here for you. Just like you’re not with me for my money or power, I’m not with you because you’re the best sex I’ve literally ever had. I’m with you because I love you.” Mickey’s tone was borderline playful now, but the sincerity in the last line had Ian’s heart pounding. 

“I love you, too, Mick,” Ian returned with as much sincerity as he could muster before kissing Mickey. 

“Never questioned it for a minute, ginger. Now turn around so I can wash this greasy bed head of yours,. His voice was fully playful now and it made Ian smile. 

“Yes, sir,” Ian smirked before turning around and settling between Mickey’s thighs once again. 

Mickey washed and rinsed his hair twice before bathing him. It was nice. It felt good to be taken care of so casually. It made him feel safe but he could already feel himself slipping. The small high he got from Mickey coming to him was quickly fading and it was starting to make his chest hurt. He prompted Mickey to turn around so he could rerun the favor, washing his beautiful black hair and washing his body, letting his hands linger in certain places where he wanted to caress his lover before his forehead dropped onto the back of Mickey’s shoulders. 

“You okay back there?” Mickey asked, resting his hand on Ian's large ones that were caressing his chest. 

“Hmm. My bit of energy is starting to fade pretty quickly,” Ian confessed softly, mumbling into Mickey’s skin before pressing a kiss there. 

“Okay, baby, let’s get out then. We can cuddle more in bed,” Mickey promised, turning to press a kiss to Ian’s forehead before reaching around him and pulling out the drain plug. Mickey dried himself off first and pulled on his boxers before turning to Ian. 

“You want a full pajama set?” Mickey asked, meeting tired eyes. 

“Um, just boxers and a t-shirt is fine,” Ian replied, his voice much slower and Mickey could tell that his energy level had decreased significantly over the past minutes. 

He went to grab Ian’s clothes quickly, helped him out of the bath, managed to get him dressed and back in bed. It wasn’t the easiest task when Ian barley had any energy coupled with him still having weak legs, but they managed. 

“Hey, Mick?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m not hungry, so can we just cuddle now? I promise I’ll eat breakfast tomorrow and you can hold me to that,” Ian promised, making grabby hands for his boyfriend. It was so damn adorable that Mickey just couldn’t resist. 

“Alright, tough guy, let’s cuddle then.” Mickey climbed up next to him and pulled back the covers. “But just so you know, I will hold you to that come breakfast time.” 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Ian mumbled, a small, tired smile playing on his lips as he snuggled into Mickey’s chest. 

Mickey just kissed his head and held him close. The next few weeks might be hectic and he might be crazy for still looking forward to them. But he loved Ian. He wanted to spend his life with Ian. So here and now, in his time of need, he would take care of his lover.

And he planned to take care of him for a long time after. 


	13. Governor Milkovich?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He may not have felt one hundred percent okay right now but with Mickey here, taking care of him, he knew he would be._

_ “Dr. Porter’s office, this is Vivian speaking. How can I help you today?”  _

“Hi, Vivian, this is Governor Milkovich, can you please transfer me directly to Dr. Porter? It’s urgent.” Mickey barked into the phone, glancing at the room where a tired Ian was cuddled into the pillow Mickey had been sleeping with the night before. 

_ “Oh! Of course, Governor Milkovich!”  _ the peppy voice called over the phone, the soft jazz music floating through his speaker as he walked away from Ian's bedroom door. 

_ “Governor Milkovich?”  _ another female voice called through the phone, this one less peppy, more serious and sounding slightly older. 

“Yes, this is Dr. Porter correct?” Mickey asked, just to be sure. 

_ “Yes, sir. Is everything okay today?”  _ she asked gently, no judgement in her voice, and Mickey decided he liked her already. 

“Not quite. My b—my employee, Ian Gallagher, is a patient of yours,” Mickey started, hearing the noise the doctor made through the phone. 

_ “Governor, I’m sorry, but I’m sure you’re aware I can’t discuss anything about Mr. Gallagher due to patient confidentiality.”  _ Her voice was a bit stern and Mickey appreciated that she was protecting Ian’s privacy. 

“Of course, Dr. Porter, I’m not calling to discuss anything personal. Listen, Ian was late to work yesterday and I hadn’t heard from him. I got a bit worried since he hadn’t been late in the time that he’s been working at the office, so I decided to do a quick home visit. I found him curled up in bed. He wasn't moving, he didn’t want to talk or eat, and just last week he was super energetic and all over the place. I knew about his bipolar and when I got here, he told me he was worried his meds weren’t working and he was trying to get in to see you. But before he knew it, he just couldn’t get out of bed. Late yesterday evening, I got him to eat some crackers and soup but he just didn’t have the energy for anything else, so I offered to call you for him. So, I’m just trying to see if you have anything available today so we can get him up and feeling better.” Mickey bit his lip, hoping nothing he said came off as anything but a perfectly professional friendship when Dr. Porter was silent for a moment. 

_ “Alright, I have Mr. Gallagher scheduled for 1:45 this afternoon. Please have him bring his journal, his current prescriptions and a change of clothes.”  _ Dr. Porter rattled off the short list. Mickey’s brow furrowed at the change of clothes,  _ the fuck would he need a change of clothes for?  _

“Thank you so much, Dr. Porter, I’ll see you in a couple hours.” Mickey nodded, more to himself than anything knowing it probably sounded odd that he was bringing his employee to his therapist's office. 

They said their goodbyes and Mickey made his way to the kitchen. Ian promised him to eat breakfast but Mickey wouldn’t force his lover to eat if he really couldn’t. So, Mickey went to work making eggs, toast and bacon, fixing a glass of orange juice and cutting up a small bowl of fruit. He balanced everything in his arms and made his way to the bedroom, quietly setting everything on the nightstand and sitting next to Ian on the bed. 

“Hey. Ian, baby, wake up,” Mickey whispered, reaching out to gently run his hand over soft ginger hair, smiling when Ian stirred slightly, nuzzling into his palm with a soft, contented sigh. 

“Ian, time to wake up, baby,” Mickey tried again, shaking him lightlywith his free hand, this time getting a groan of protest that made Mickey chuckle. 

“Five more minutes,” Ian muttered, his voice sounding tired and strained. 

“Nope, sorry, but you promised me you’d eat breakfast, and you have an appointment with Dr. Porter at 1:45,” Mickey informed him, watching green eyes flutter open to meet his blue eyes, not quite able to read the emotions behind them. 

“You don’t have to take me. Once I’m up and going, I can get there by myself—” 

Mickey cut him off, still caressing Ian’s face.. “No. Unless you just don’t want me to go. But you aren’t going alone. You're not a burden, Ian. I love you and I want to be there with you.” 

“I love you, too, Mick and I-I definitely want you there,” Ian admitted before glancing at the food on the bedside table. 

“Need me to help you?” Mickey offered gently. Ian answered with a small nod before pushing himself into a seated position, letting the sheets fall off his bare torso. 

“How’s Yev?” Ian asked after a few silent minutes of Mickey feeding him. 

“He’s good, on some class trip for ROTC this weekend, starts football season in a couple weeks,” Mickey explained, watching a quick flicker of something in Ian’s eyes as he spoke. 

“I was in ROTC in high school.” He managed a small smile as he met Mickey’s eyes, taking the proffered bite. 

Mickey chuckled.“Why am I not surprised? You liked it?” He offered Ian some orange juice. 

“Get me the box out of the bottom of my dresser?” Ian asked, nodding to the dresser across from the foot of the bed. Mickey complied, listening silently as Ian continued talking. 

“And yes, I loved it. It was honestly one of the biggest things that saved me growing up. Somewhere I could safely get out my aggression, helped build up my self-confidence, discipline and all that life skill shit.” Ian smiled again while Mickey snorted a laugh as he handed the box to Ian, watching him open it and flip through what looked like a stack of photographs. 

“That’s almost exactly what Yev told me when he asked to join his freshman year. Kid is in all kinds of shit: co-captain of the football team, a badass pitcher in baseball, did a short stint in soccer, lacrosse, and track and wants to try his hand at the swim team next year. He’s in the theater, choir and the debate team. Kid’s already volunteering down at City Hall and the state capitol. I’m proud of him, gonna have colleges lining up out the ass when he’s ready to start applying.” Ian smiled as he pulled out the photo he was looking for and listened to Mickey ramble on about his son and how proud he was of him. 

“He seems like a great kid, Mick. I can’t wait to meet him.” Ian stopped, his eyes widening slightly. “I didn’t—I meant like, maybe one day or—“ 

“Ian, hey. I want you to meet Yev, okay? I really do. He’s well aware, and has been for quite some time, of the arrangement that Svet and I have. And I—well, I told him about you already,” Mickey confessed with a small shrug lowering the plate to his lap so he could focus on Ian.

“You talked to him about me?” Ian asked quietly, fidgeting with the picture nervously, like he almost couldn’t believe it, because  _ why would Mickey talk to his son about him?  _

“Yeah, I did. Asked me why I was so happy recently, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to finally brag about you.” Mickey smirked, reaching out to pluck the picture out of Ian’s hand and turning it over to inspect it. 

“That was senior night; the whole family came out for it, I was top of my class, tested out of all of my English classes, got awards and shit. Fiona wouldn’t stop taking pictures, saying she couldn’t get over how handsome I looked.” Ian let out a soft laugh. 

Mickey had to agree though. Ian did look extremely handsome. He was dressed head to toe in the camouflage uniform, arms crossed and smiling that big goofy smile at the camera and surrounded by four other kids with matching grins. Mickey smiled, loving the fact that he was learning more about Ian, seeing part of his life, something he was passionate about. It made his heart squeeze in the most pleasant way. 

“Well, she’s not wrong. You definitely do look handsome.” Mickey leaned forward, kissing Ian lightly before taking the box from him to flip through the other photos. 

Ian snuck the plate from the bedside table as he watched Mickey flipping through the photos of his childhood, commenting every now and then on a picture, telling Mickey who was who or delving into a story behind a particular photo. It felt good. It made him feel good. Having Mickey here made him feel normal, made him feel okay, like the floor wasn’t seconds away from caving in and swallowing him whole. 

He may not have felt one hundred percent okay right now but with Mickey here taking care of him, he knew he would be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my sweet readers, I will be updating soon, but I’ve had a couple readers asked if I had other social media they could follow me on. I don’t post much but with recent events I though I would start posting to help keep everyone up to date on story progress, sneak peaks and updating schedule changes. 
> 
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	14. Alisha Porter, MD, PhD.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Do you think this newfound relationship has possibly contributed to your current mental state?” Ian made a noise that had Mickey looking at him immediately._   
>  _“No. I—no.” Ian stuttered a moment before his final firm, “No.”_   
>  _“Ian, you know my job is to help you, tell you how it is, and I don’t mean to jump to conclusions, but an affair can be quite stressful—“_   
>  _“We’re not having an affair.” Mickey cut her off sharply._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge shoutout to OllieMaye for being the best beta reader out there! I loved working with you on the first half of this story and can’t wait to finish it with you♥️

“Did you, um—do you wanna come with me?” Ian asked, fiddling with the straps of the backpack in his lap. 

“Well, I wasn’t planning on sending you in there alone.” Mickey reached across the console to stop Ian’s fidgeting hand. 

“No, I meant, like come back with me while I’m talking to the doctor and stuff,” Ian stated softly, meeting Mickey’s soft blue eyes. 

“Really? You want me to come with you?” Mickey asked, his heart swelling painfully in his chest when Ian gave him the sweetest smile. 

“Yeah, yeah I do. You, uh, you might hear some intense shit though, so—“ 

“Shut up, Ian. I wanna come with you. I wanna hear what you have to say. Good, bad, all that shit,” Mickey reassured him, leaning across the console to kiss Ian softly. 

Ian was quiet for a moment, looking at Mickey with warmth in his eyes and a soft smile stretching across his lips. He pulled his hand and got out of the car but Mickey stopped him one more time, pressing him softly against the side of the car, looking up into his eyes for a moment. 

“What’s with the change of clothes?” Mickey asked softly, his hand coming to rest on Ian’s clothed hip in an attempt to soothe them both. 

“Oh, uh, it’s in case she thinks I need to go to inpatient care overnight. It’s not likely, I’m not-—I haven’t tried to, ya know, hurt myself or anyone else, it’s just a precaution...” Ian trailed off, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Well, that’s good, right? And you have me anyway, I’ll stay with you,” Mickey reached out; it was risky, not looking around to make sure there were no prying eyes, but he couldn’t let Ian feel like a secret or a burden right now, so he reached out and pulled Ian closer by his waist. 

“You don’t have to do that—“ 

“But I want to. And-and if you feel like you need to, it’s okay for you to talk about our relationship,” Mickey offered quietly, smiling a little when Ian looked at him shocked. 

“But I though no one could know?” Ian asked, his arm coming up to grasp the elbow of Mickey’s outstretched arm to keep him close. 

“Doctor-patient confidentiality. She would lose her job if she said anything. Plus, uh, I remember you saying stress can cause things to be worse and being in a secret relationship can be stressful, plus everything that happened with John—“ 

“Mick, it’s not—thank you, okay? You, us—our relationship doesn’t stress me out. But I’m glad you remember some of the things I told you and that you’ve given me the okay to talk about us. I think it’ll be nice to talk to someone about us.” Ian quickly kissed his forehead. 

“Alright, red, let’s go,” Mickey smiled, his cheeks tinted just the lightest bit pink. 

The clinic wasn’t packed; there was one lady tucked off in a corner flipping through a magazine, an older gentleman fidgeting in his seat by the window and nursing a little white cup of what seemed like coffee, and a single receptionist wearing baby blue scrubs sitting behind the desk. Mickey could pinpoint the exact moment she recognized who he was but her wide eyes turned to focus on Ian as he walked up to the desk. 

“Ian Gallagher. uh, I have an appointment with Dr. Porter at 1:45.” He nervously tapped his fingers against the countertop as the nurse—Vivian, according to her name tag—typed away on the computer. 

“Alright, Mr. Gallagher, we’re gonna go ahead and bring you back.” Vivian struck another button on the keyboard before gesturing to the door to the left. 

Ian looked at Mickey for confirmation, waiting for his nod of encouragement before they were both moving towards the door together. There was a soft buzz from Vivian unlocking the door from behind the desk. Once they were through the door, Vivian stood and walked over, holding her hand out to direct Ian where to go, leading them to a little nook down the hall where she quietly asked Ian to have a seat. Mickey silently took Ian’s backpack without being prompted and stood off to the side. 

“Okay, so we’re just gonna get some vitals as usual before I bring you back to Dr. Porter’s office, okay?” she asked, her blonde ponytail swishing back and forth as she bustled about the tiny area. 

Ian sat quiet and compliant, avoiding eye contact as Mickey stood as a silent encouragement off to the side. Vivian jotted down a couple things before giving Ian a small smile and motioning for them to follow after her once more. Leading them down another hall and pushing open a door with a shiny plaque on the front,  _ Alisha Porter, MD, PhD.  _

Mickey quietly hummed to himself as they were left alone in the room, eyes silently scanning the wall that held framed certifications and various other documents. He heard Ian shift behind him and turned around to find a very nervous looking redhead shifting nervously on his feet. 

“You okay?” Mickey asked, walking over to slide an arm around Ian’s waist, not missing the way he seemed to melt into his touch. 

“I’m always nervous at first, but Alisha, she’s great. And—I mean, I’ve never brought anyone here before,” Ian confessed, bringing his hands up to play with the collar of Mickey’s t-shirt. 

“Really? None of your siblings? Exes?” Mickey asked, surprised when Ian snorted sarcastically, pulling away and leading him over to the light gray suede couch. 

“As much as me and my siblings love each other, I wouldn’t bring them here. My mom, she’s bipolar, that’s where I get it from. She’s unmedicated and refuses to take any meds or get any treatment. She made our lives hell when she was actually around. When I got diagnosed, I was in a bad place. I was only 17 and I—well, let’s just say I did a lot of shit I’m not exactly proud of, and when I was diagnosed, my siblings started treating me like her. ‘Monica was like this’ or ‘Monica was like that’, as if I didn’t know, like I wasn’t there with them dealing with her shit. I just hated seeing them look at me the way they looked at her, so I try to keep them separated from this part of my life as much as possible,” Ian rambled in explanation, fingers shifting from picking at the hem of Mickey’s t-shirt to fidgeting with his fingers, meeting understanding blue eyes briefly. 

“Hmm. Well, what about exes?” Mickey asked, taking in all of that information Ian had given him and storing it away for later. The Gallaghers were an intimidating bunch but really no more than his own siblings. 

“I wasn’t really with most of them long enough to bring them here. I brought Caleb once but you know how that turned out so.,.” Ian trailed off. Mickey opened his mouth to reply when there was a soft knock on the door. 

Ian slipped his hand out of Mickey’s as they both stood up. An older woman with short blonde hair, kind brown eyes and an uncanny resemblance to Elisabeth Shue, walked in holding a pink clipboard. If she was surprised to see Mickey, she didn’t show it and, much like Vivian, kept her attention on her patient. 

“Ian, I’m glad you were able to make it today,” she said as she reached for his hand. “I see we have a visitor today, will he be standing during our session?” 

“Uh, if that’s okay. I’d like to have him here the whole time,” Ian answered, a slight bob to his head as he let go of her hand. 

“Of course. Mr. Milkovich,” she said to Mickey, extending her hand in greeting the same way she had to Ian. 

“Just Mickey, please,” he corrected, shaking her hand. There was a glint of something in her eye as she pulled her hand back. 

“Alright, Ian, Mickey, have a seat please.” She gestured to the couch as she took a seat across from them, pulling a pen from the pocket of her blouse and scribbling something on the corner of the page on the clipboard. 

“So, Ian, what brings you here today? You missed your appointment on Friday.” Dr. Porter caught his eye as she spoke, causing his nervous fidgeting to stop. 

“I think my meds might have gone out of balance. That’s why I was supposed to come Friday, but a low hit me out of nowhere and I just couldn’t bring myself to do anything,” he answered sheepishly, almost embarrassed. 

“It’s very possible it’s just your meds. Have you been under any stress lately? I know you’ve recently started a new job, sometimes that can cause underlying stress to worsen. But you’re here now. What got you out of bed today?” Dr. Porter asked, her voice gentle and comforting. 

“Uh, Mickey. He came to check on me, rescheduled my appointment for today,” Ian answered, glancing briefly at Mickey before settling back on Dr. Porter. 

“And you and Mickey, have you become close since working together?” Dr. Porter asked, glancing between the two men, the question directed at them both, not just Ian. 

Mickey caught Ian’s eyes giving him a slight nod and a small smile letting him know that he was still okay with Ian confiding in the older woman. 

“We’re, um, in a relationship,” Ian stated, the words hanging in the air and Dr. Porter was quiet for a moment, fiddling with the pen in her hands. 

“Okay. And do you think this newfound relationship has possibly contributed to your current mental state?” Ian made a noise that had Mickey looking at him immediately. 

“No. I—no.” Ian stuttered a moment before his final firm, “No.” 

“Ian, you know my job is to help you, tell you how it is, and I don’t mean to jump to conclusions, but an affair can be quite stressful—“

“We’re not having an affair.” Mickey cut her off sharply, reaching for Ian’s hand as he leaned forward. 

“Are you not married?” Dr. Porter asked, eyebrow arched skeptically. 

“I am, yes. But my wife and I, we aren’t—look my wife is aware of Ian, our relationship and the fact that I’m gay. We’ve had a long-standing arrangement, so I’m not having an affair. Ian isn’t some mistress that’s being kept in the dark. He’s my boyfriend and I love him. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Mickey stated matter of factly, turning his head when he noticed Ian gaping at him in shock. 

“You mean that?” he asked, green eyes wide at the public declaration of Mickey’s love for him. 

“Of course I do, Ian,” Mickey squeezed his hand before turning his gaze back to Dr. Porter. 

“Now you know, so can we please move on to getting him feeling better?” Mickey asked. Dr. Porter hummed, nodding slightly to herself before turning her attention completely back to Ian. 

“Okay, Ian, so tell me about the last couple of weeks.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

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